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ALLAN  PINKERTON’S 

DETECTIVE  STORI ES. 

1 

VOL.  VI. 

THE  MOLLY  MAGUIRES 

AND 


THE  DETECTIVES. 


NEW  BOOKS 


By  ALLAN  PINKERTON. 


THE  EXPBESSMAlSr  AND  THE  DETECTIVE,  etC. 

THE  MOLLY  MAGUIRES  AND  DETECTIVES — an 
extra  large  volume,  with  48  spirited  illus- 
trations, $2,60. 

THE  MODEL  TOWN  AND  DETECTIVES,  etc. 

THE  SPIRITUALISTS  AND  DETECTIVES. 

These  wonderful  Detective  Stories  by  Allan  Pinaerton 
are  having  an  unprecedented  success.  Their  sale  s 
fast  approaching  one  hundred  thousand  copies. 

" ThxC  interest  which  the  reader  feels  from 
the  outset  is  intense  and  resistless ; he 
is  swept  along  by  the  narrative,  held 
by  it  whether  he  will  or  no.” 


All  published  uniform  with  this  volume.  Price  $1.50  each 
and  sent  free  by  mail,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

G.  W,  CARLETON  CO.,  Publishers, 

New  York. 


'A  consultation  was  held^  in  niy  pi  raatc  parlor ^ os’er  the  hnsincss  offices  of  the  Apener,  South  Third 

Streets 


THE 


Molly  Maguires 

AND 

THE  DETECTIVES. 


By 

ALLAN  EJNKERTON, 

AUTHOR  OF 

“the  expressman  and  the  detective,”  “the  model  town 
AND  the  detectives,”  “THE  SPIRITUALISTS  AND 
the  detectives,”  ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK. 

G.  W,  Carleto7t  & Co,^  Publishers, 

LONDON:  S.  LOW  & CO. 


MDCCCLXXVII. 


fS 

,P6SS 

Mb 


Copyrighted  1877, 

By  ALLAN  PINKERTON. 


A//  rights  reserved. 


8CBTON  COCEEGE  OHKAIIll 
CHESTNUT  HILL.  MASS. 


DEC  16 '68 


John  F.  Trow  & Son, 
'Printers, 

205-213  .East  12th  St., 
NEWYORK. 


406042 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

An  Extraordinary  Proposition 13 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Man  for  the  Work 22 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Detective  seeks  the  Haunts  of  the  Mollies 27 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Stirring  up  a Wasp’s  Nest 36 

CHAPTER  V. 

Cold  Comfort  in  the  Mountains 49 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Pottsville  and  the  Sheridan  House 59 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Bloody  Record  of  the  Mollie  Maguires 66 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Detective  Sings,  Fights,  and  Dances  Himself  into 

Popularity 73 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Dormer  under  Investigation 82 

CHAPTER  X. 

Father  Bridgeman  gives  Jack  Kehoe  a Blast 92 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A Kilkenny  Affair  at  Tamaqua 105 


VI 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PAGE 

McKenna  meets  a Morning  Adventure 113 

• CHAPTER  XIII. 

Muff  Lawler  at  Home 124 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Detective  achieves  a Victory 134 

CHAPTER  XV. 

More  Work  of  the  Mollies 145 

CHAPTER  XVI.' 

A Rough  Journey  and  a Thrilling  Adventure 156 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

A Peculiar  Wedding  Ceremony 168 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A Row,  a Removal,  and  a Raflle 179 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Snared  by  Kate — Honored  by  “ Mollie.”* 194 

CHAPTER  XX. 

A Fright,  a Fight,  and  a Funeral 207 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Contest  with  a Constable 221 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Horrors  upon  Horrors 231 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Good  Old  Micky  Cuff 239 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Hostilities  continued 251 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Plot  to  destroy  the  Catawissa  Bridges 262 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

PAGB 

A Calamity  Averted 271 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

New  Forces  in  the  Field 280 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  Detective  in  Sore  Tribulation 293 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Inquisition  of  Ten 303 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Another  Victim  of  the  Mollies 316 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Holding  the  Breaker ; * 327 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Linden  forms  an  Acquaintance 337 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

President  Gowen  and  the  Legislative  Commission 346 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Murder  of  B.  F.  Yost 356 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

McKenna  takes  up  the  Trail  at  Tamaqua 367 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

In  the  Murderer’s  Nest 377 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Kerrigan’s  Sister-in-law 391 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Slowly  gaining  Ground 402 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Bloody  Saturday 411 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

PAGE 

More  Bosses  Doomed 423 

CHAPTER  XLL 

Murder  of  Sanger  and  Uren 433 

CHAPTER  XLH. 

Arrest  of  Assassins 441 

CHAPTER  XLHI. 

Violence  for  Violence 451 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Trials  and  Confessions 462 

CHAPTER  XLV. 

Suspicion  Aroused 471 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

McAndrew  saves  a Life 486 

CHAPTER  XLVH. 

The  Last  of  McKenna 497 

CHAPTER  XL VIII. 

A Noble  Effort 508 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 

Closing  the  Record 542 


PREFACE. 


The  governing  idea  in  the  mind  of  the  author, 
while  preparing  this  volume  for  the  press,  has  been  to 
give  details  connected  with  the  MOLLIE  MAGUIRES, 
and  follow  strictly  the  truth  concerning  the  adventures 
of  the  detectives  during  three  years  passed  in  their 
midst.  He  is  aware  that,  in  many  places,  the  relation 
reads  much  like  fiction,  and  that  it  will  be  accepted 
as  romance  by  very  many  who  are  totally  unac- 
quainted with  the  country  and  the  people  attempted 
to  be  described.  It  has  been  the  constant  endeavor 
to  adhere  closely  to  facts,  and  if  the  incidents  are,  in 
a great  degree,  novel  and  absorbing,  it  is  due  to  these 
facts,  and  they  were  worked  out,  through  arduous 
labors,  in  sleepless  nights  and  undivided  attention  to 
the  ends  to  be  gained. 

The  coal  regions  of  Pennsylvania  are  inhabited  by 
a mixture  of  races,  the  ingredients  perhaps  more 
widely  differing,  in  character  and  origin,  than  those 
of  any  other  portion  of  the  globe.  Living  within  a 

stone’s  throw  of  each  other  will  be  found  the  German, 

I* 


X 


PREFACE. 


Swede,  Norwegian,  Pole,  Irish,  Scotch,  English, 
Bohemian,  and  Russian.  And  in  moving  across  the 
country,  from  one  colliery  to  another,  representatives 
of  nearly  all  of  these  widely  separated  nations  may 
be  encountered,  with  here  and  there  an  American  and 
Pennsylvania  German.  All  endeavor  to  express 
themselves  in  Anglo-Saxon,  but  their  foreign  idioms 
and  native  eccentricities  will,  spite  of  themselves, 
occasionally  crop  out.  Hence  the  life  of  a person, 
who  is  sensitively  alive  to  diversified  phases  of  hurhan 
nature  and  having  a keen  sense  of  the  humorous,  in 
the  mining  districts,  cannot  well  be  devoid  of  enjoy- 
ment. Some  extraordinary  habits  and  peculiarities 
are  found  in  the  coal  fields  not  discovered  elsewhere. 

To  the  boundless  extent  and  value  of  the  coal  fields, 
as  a portion  of  the  economy  of  the  whole  country, 
full  reference  has  been  made  in  this  volume. 

The  only  difficulty  of  importance  experienced  by 
the  writer  of  the  work  has  been  to  condense  within 
the  compass  of  these  pages  the  very  extended  and 
almost  overwhelming  mass  of  matter  placed  before 
him — all  of  which,  he  doubts  not,  would,  if  given, 
prove  of  general  interest — and  to  exercise  due  dis- 
cretion in  the  rejection  of  portions  not  deemed  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  be  incorporated. 

It  has  been  the  constant  intent  to  produce  a fair 
picture  of  the  MOLLIE  Maguire  in  his  native  oi 
adopted  home,  with  only  such  delineations  of  the 


PREFACE. 


XI 


scenery  and  surroundings  as  the  course  of  the  narra- 
tive may  seem  naturally  to  bring  in.  These,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  will  be  found  apt  and  in  accordance  with 
nature. 

For  the  sanguinary  character  of  many  of  the  chap- 
ters and  accompanying  illustrations  no  excuse  is 
needed.  It  is  the  work  of  the  MoLLiE  Maguires, 
and  not  of  the  author  or  designer.  Where  scenes 
of  general  interest  are  depicted  the  assistance  of  the 
photographer  and  his  camera  has  been  liberally  in- 
voked. In  the  letter-press  the  relater  has  merely 
traced  the  journeyings  of  the  detectives  with  a. faith- 
ful pen,  and  sought  to  reproduce  their  words,  acts, 
and  results  achieved,  as  well  as  the  language  of  the 
persons,  criminals  or  citizens,  with  whom  they  have 
come  in  contact.  All  of  the  characters  lived,  or  once 
have  lived,  in  the  anthracite  coal  regions.  If  fault 
there  may  be  in  their  description,  it  will  be  found 
in  lack  of  color,  as  the  brush  has  not,  in  any  case, 
been  dipped  in  too  florid  hues. 

With  the  ends  accomplished  in  this  three  years" 
warfare  with  the  MOLLIE  MAGUIRES,  the  public  is 
already  well  instructed,  the  great  newspapers  of  the 
country  having  vied  with  each  other  in  friendly  rivalry 
to  first  give  the  results. 

The  author  has  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  work 
done.  The  modes  in  which  the  labors  were  per- 
formed, and  the  routes  taken  by  himself  and  others  to 


Xll 


PREFACE, 


gain  desirable  points  have  found  record,  for  the  first 
time,  in  the  following  pages.  No  attempt  has  ever 
before  been  made  to  give  thern.  No  task  of  the  kind 
could  succeed  without  the  private  papers  and  docu- 
ments on  file  in  my  Agency,  to  which,  of  course,  no 
person,  excepting  myself,  would  be  permitted  to  have 
access. 

With  the  purely  legal  and  court  portions  of  the 
murder  cases,  the  arguments  of  the  distinguished 
counsel  for  both  sides,  and  the  testimony,  simply  as 
testimony,  I have  dealt  very  sparingly.  The  masterly 
effort  of  F.  B.  Gowen,  Esq.,  I have  printed  almost 
entire.  It  is  so  to  the  point,  so  truthful,  and  such  a 
vivid  and  telling  exposition  of  the  theory  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, that  any  attempt  in  the  way  of  curtail- 
ment would  be  damaging.  Without  the  speech  I 
should  consider  my  book  incomplete. 

The  talent  of  the  entire  State  of  Pennsylvania  was 
hunted  over  to  find  attorneys  capable  of  freeing  the 
unfortunate  men  brought  to  trial  in  Schuylkill,  Co- 
lumbia, and  Carbon  counties.  But  the  law  was 
against  them.  The  defendants  had  incurred  the  pen- 
alty, by  committal  o"f  crimes,  and  justice  has  been  at 
least  partly  vindicated. 

ALLAN  PINKERTON. 


Chicago,  III.,  June,  1877. 


THE  MOLLIE  MAGUIRES 


Early  in  the  month  of  October,  1873,  I was  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  one  day  received  a note  from  Mr.  F.  B.  Gowen, 
President  of  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway  Com- 
pany and  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron 
Company,  saying  that  he  desired  to  see  me  at  his  place  of 
business.  I immediately  responded  to  the  invitation,  accom- 
panied by  Superintendent  PVanklin,  and  met  the  gentleman 
in  his  private  apartment,  in  the  Company’s  elegant  building 
on  Fourth  Street. 

“ I have  sent  for  you,  Mr.  Pinkerton,”  said  the  President^ 
of  the  two  great  Pennsylvania  corporations,  after  we  had 
exchanged  greetings,  “ upon  business  of  importance.” 

I made  known  my  willingness  to  hear  what  it  was. 

“ The  coal  regions  are  infested  by  a most  desperate  class 
of  men,  banded  together  for  the  worst  purposes — called,  by 
some,  the  Buckshots,  by  others  the  Mollie  Maguires — and 
they  are  making  sad  havoc  with  the  country.  It  is  a secret 
organization,  has  its  meetings  in  hidden  and  out-of-the-way 


AND  THE 


CHAPTER  I. 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION. 


14 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION. 


places^  and  its  members,  I have  been  convinced  ever  since 
my  residence  in  Pottsville  and  my  connection  with  the 
criminal  courts  as  District  Attorney  in  the  county  of  Schuyl- 
kill, are  guilty  of  a majority  of  all  the  murders  and  other 
deeds  of  outrage  which,  for  many  years,  have  been  committed 
in  the  neighborhood.  I wish  you  to  investigate  this  myste- 
rious order,  find  out  its  interior  workings,  expose  its  evil 
transactions,  and  see  if  the-  just  laws  of  the  State  cannot 
again  be  made  effective  in  bringing  criminals  to  justice.  At 
present,  whenever  an  assassination  is  consummated,  and,  as 
a consequence,  a trial  is  instituted,  a convenient  alibi  steps 
forward  and  secures  for  the  prisoner  his  freedom.  Munici- 
pal laws  are  thus  incapable  of  execution  ; sheriffs  of  counties 
are  powerless,  and  the  usual  run  of  detectives  are  of  as  little 
value  as  the  open,  uniformed  police  of  the  different  cities. 
All  of  these  have  been  tested,  and  all  have  failed.  Now,  if 
you  cannot  disperse  the  murderous  crew,  or  give  us  grounds 
upon  which  to  base  prosecutions,  then  I shall  believe  that  it 
never  will  be  effected.”  . 

I considered  the  proposition  for  a moment,  turning  over 
in  my  mind  the  magnitude  of  the  labor  to  be  performed. 

“ Let  me  think  of  it  a little,”  I answered ; ‘‘  and,  in  the 
meantime,  tell  me  more  about  the  Mollie  Maguires.” 

“ As  far  as  we  can  learn,  the  society  is  of  foreign  birth, 
a noxious  weed  which  has  been  transplanted  from  its  native 
soil — that  of  Ireland — to  the  United  States,  some  time  within 
the  last  twenty  years.  It  lived  and  prospered  in  the  old 
country  considerably  earlier.  Its  supporters  there  were 
known  as  Ribbonmen,  the  White  Boys,  and  sometimes 
as  Mollie  Maguires,  but  their  modes  of  procedure  were 
the  same  as  now  pursued  in  the  coal  regions.  Men 
were  then,  as  they  are  at  this  time,  killed — sometimes 
in  broad  daylight,  sometimes  at  night,  and  invariably  by 
strangers — persons  at  least  unknown  to  chance  spectators, 
or  to  the  parties  violently  put  out  of  the  way.  Suspected 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION. 


15 


individuals  would  be  apprehended,  but  in  the  end  nobody 
could  be  found  able  to  identify  the  criminals.  It  was  only 
after  a protracted  struggle  in  Ireland  that  the  proper  evi- 
dence could  be  elicited  to  convict  the  tools  doing  the  bloody 
behests  of  the  society.  I suppose  it  will  not  be  easy  to  do 
this  in  Pennsylvania.  The  same  minds,  the  same  combina- 
tions, are  to  be  encountered  here.  The  Mollies  rule  our  people 
with  a rod  of  iron.  They  do  this  and  make  no  sign.  The 
voice  of  the  fraternity  is  unheard,  but  the  work  is  performed. 
Even  the  political  sentiments  of  the  commonwealth  are 
moulded  by  them,  and  in  their  particular  field  they  elect 
or  defeat  whomsoever  they  may  please.  They  control,  in  a 
measure,  the  finances  of  the  State.  Their  chiefs  direct 
affairs  this  way,  and  that  way,  without  hinderance.  Men 
without  ‘an  iota  of  moral  principle,  they  dictate  the  principles 
of  otherwise  honorable  parties.  In  its  ultimate  results  this 
complexion  of  affairs  in  Pennsylvania  touches,  to  a consider- 
able degree,  the  interests  of.  the  citizens  of  the  whole  coun- 
try. Wherever  anthracite  is  employed  is  also  felt  the  vise- 
like grip  of  this  midnight,  dark-lantern,  murderous-minded 
fraternity.  Wherever  in  the  United  States  iron  is  wrought,' 
from  Maine  to  Georgia,  from  ocean  to  ocean — wherever 
hard  coal  is  used  for  fuel,  there  the  Mollie  Maguire  leaves 
his  slimy  trail  and  wields  with  deadly  effect  his  two  power- 
ful levers  : secrecy — combination.  Men  having  their  capi- 
tal locked  up  in  the  coal-beds  are  as  obedient  puppets  in 
his  hands.  They  have  for  some  time  felt  that  they  were  fast 
losing  sway  over  that  which  by  right  should  be  their  own  to 
command.  They  think,  with  some  show  of  reason,  their 
money  would  have  profited  them  as  much  had  it  been  thrown 
to  the  fishes  in  the  sea,  or  devoted  to  the  devouring  flames. 
Others,  wishing  to  engage  in  mining  operations,  and  who 
are  possessed  of  the  capital  and  experience  necessary,  are 
driven  away.  They  cannot  intrust  their  hard-earned  property 
to  a venture  which  will  be  at  the  beck  and  call  of  a fierce 


i6 


A AT  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION. 


and  sanguinary  ral)ble  and  its  heedless  and  reckless  direc- 
tors. They  wisely  turn  aside  and  seek  other  and  less 
hazardous  uses  for  their  talents  and  their  means.  The 
entire  population  of  this  State  feel  the  shock,  and  it  is  in 
due  season  communicated  to  the  most  distant  parts  in  which 
anthracite  is  used  and  ores  reduced  or  smelted.” 

1 had  heard  of  many  assassinations  by  these  Mollie 
Maguires,  and  also  about  those  performed  by  the  Ku-Klux 
and  similar  political  combinations  in  the  Southern  States. 
It  had  always  seemed  to  me  that  it  was  a sacred  duty  which 
•Pennsylvania  owed  to  herself,  to  her  own  citizens,  and  to 
the  country  at  large,  to  clear  her  garments  of  the  taint  resting 
upon  them  and  bring  to  punishment  the  persons  who,  for 
so  many  years,  habitually  outraged  decency,  sj^ilt  human  blood 
without  stint,  and  converted  the  richest  section  of  one  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  refined  of  all  the  sisterhood  of  States  into 
a very  golgotha — a locality  from  which  law-abiding  men  and 
women  might  soon  be  forced  to  flee,  as  from  the  threatened 
cities  of  the  plain,  or  from  a spot  stricken  with  plague  and 
pestilence. 

“ I will  enter  upon  the  business,  but  it  will  require  time, 
sharp  work,  and  plenty  of  both  ! ” 

“Yes  ! We  duly  appreciate  this,”  responded  Mr.  Gowen. 
“ What  we  want,  and  everybody  wants,  is  to  get  within  this 
apparently  impenetrable  ring ; turn  to  the  light  the  hidden 
side  of  this  dark  and  cruel  body,  to  ]rrobe  to  its  core  this 
festering  sore  upon  the  body  politic,  which  is  rapidly  gnaw- 
ing into  the  vitals  and  sapping  the  life  of  the  community. 
Crime  must  be  punishable  in  the  mountains  of  Pennsylvania, 
as  it  is  in  the  agricultural  counties,  and  in  all  well-regulated 
countries.  We  want  to  work  our  mines  in  peace,  to  run  our 
passenger  and  freight  trains  without  fear  of  the  sudden  loss 
of  life  and  property  through  the  malicious  acts  of  the  Mollie 
Maguires  ; we  want  people  to  sleep  un threatened,  unmolested, 
ill  their  beds,  undisturbed  by  horrid  dreams  of  midnight 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION.  1/ 

prowlers  and  cowardly  assassins  ; we  want  the  laboring-men, 
of  whatever  creeds  or  nationalities,  protected  in  their  right 
to  work  to  secure  sustenance  for  their  wives  and  little  ones, 
unawed  by  outside  induences.  We  want  the  miner  to  go 
forth  cheerfully  to  the  slo[)e,  or  the  shaft,  for  labor  in  the 
breast  or  in  the  gangway,  wherever  it  may  seem  to  him  for 
the  best,  void  of  the  fear  in  his  heart  when  he  parts  from  his 
wife  at  the  cottage-gate  in  the  morning,  that  it  may  be  their 
last  farewell  on  earth,  and  by  evening  his  bullet-riddled  corpse 
may  be  taken  back  to  his  home  the  only  evidence  that  he 
j has  encountered  the  murderer — the  agent  of  those  who 
would  compel  him  to  refuse  all  employment  unless  the  regu- 
lations of  the  order  were  complied  with.  The  State  can- 
not attain  these  things  ; she  has  repeatedly  tried,  and  tried  in 
vain.  You  can  do  it.  I have  seen  you  tested  on  other  occa- 
I sions  and  in  other  matters,  and  know  your  ability  to  conduct 
the  business ; we  are  willing  to  supply  everything  within  our 
1 power  to  make  your  task  a success." 

“ I believe  that  it  can  be  acomplished,  but  I am  also 
aware 'that  it  is  a stupendous,  undertaking.  I accept  the 
responsibility,  however,  with  its  accompanying  consequen- 
ces, which  I perceive  will  prove  no  small  burden  to  bear.  I 
also  see  that  I shall  encounter  no  little  difficulty  in  detailing 
from  the  many  able  and  trustworthy  men  in  my  force  one  per- 
fectly qualified  for  this  very  unusual  charge.  And  an  error  in 
the  outset  would  bring  irreparable  disaster  before  the  end 
could  be  reached.  It  is  no  ordinary  man  that  I need  in  this 
matter.  He  must  be  an  Irishman,  and  a Catholic,  as  only 
this  class  of  persons  can  find  admission  to  the  Mollie 
Maguires.  My  detective  should  become,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  one  of  the  order,  and  continue  so  while  he  remains 
in  the  case  before  us.  He  should  be  hardy,  tough,  and 
capable  of  laboring,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  to  accom- 
plish, unknown  to  those  about  him,  a single  absorbing  object. 
In  the  meanwhile,  I shall  have  to  exact  from  you  a pledge 


i8 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION. 


that,  whoever  I may  dispatch  upon  this  'errand,  he  shall  not, 
through  you,  become  known  to  any  person  as  a detective. 
This  is  highly  necessary  to  be  strictly  attended  to.  If  possi- 
ble, you  should  shut  your  eyes  to  the  fact  that  I have  an 
employe  of  my  Agency  working  in  the  mining  country.  If 
you  can  do  so  consistently,  it  might  as  well  be  given  out  to 
everybody  interested  that  the  idea  of  investigating  the  Mol- 
lies through  the  means  of  detectives,  if  ever  thought  of,  has 
been  abandoned  as  a hopeless  job,  and  that  the  present  status 
of  affairs  in  the  mines  is  totally  incapable  of  being  changed. 
Take  the  further  precaution  that  my  name,  and  those  of 
my  superintendents  and  employes,  do  not  appear  upon  any 
of  your  books.  Keep  my  reports  in  your  own  custody,  away 
from  all  prying  eyes.  I would  also  ask,  if  my  agents  are 
engaged  for  one  week,  for  one  month,  or  for  years,  that 
these  requests  still  be  complied  with ; and  further,  whatever 
may  be  the  result  of  the  examination,  no  person  in  my  em- 
ploy— unless  the  circumstances  are  greatly  changed  and  I 
demand  it — shall  ever  be  required  to  app'ear  and  give  testi- 
mony upon  the  witness  stand.” 

“To  all  of  this  I give  willing  consent.  I see  how  neces- 
sary it  is.  As  I said  before,  we  will  do  anything  in  our 
power,  and  within  the  bounds  of  reason,  to  aid  you  and 
protect  your  detectives.” 

I then  agreed  that  the  operation  should  begin  as  soon  as 
I might  make  the  proper  arrangements,  and,  after  some 
further  conversation,  principally  upon  the  purely  financial 
portion  of  the  engagement,  took  my  leave. 

Immediately  after  leaving  Mr.  Gowen’s  office  I telegraphed 
for  Mr.  Bangs,  General  Superintendent.  He  arrived  from 
New  York  early  the  ensuing  day,  and  a consultation  was 
held  in  my  private  parlor,  over  the  business  offices  of  the 
Agency,  at  No.  45  South  Third  Street,  Mr.  Bangs,  Mr.  Frank- 
lin and  myself  forming  the  parties  to  the  council.  The  details 
of  the  case  were  discussed  at  length  and  a general  plan  of 


AN  EXTRAORBINARY  PROPOSITION.  1 9 

operations  decided  upon,  after  which  I started  for  my  return 
trip  westward. 

It  was  the  ending  of  a delightfully  cool  and  pleasant 
Indian  summer  day,  and  as  I was  being  rapidly  whirled 
through  the  most  beautiful  portion  of  New  Jersey,  my  face 
toward  the  open  window,  inhaling  the  invigorating  atmos- 
phere, and  enjoying  a view  of  the  fast-fading,  swift-passing 
panorama  of  plain  and  valley,  village  and  stream,  I con- 
tinually dwelt  upon  the  service  in  which  I had  recently 
enlisted.  Forgetting  the  sunset,  the  agreeable  evening,  and 
every  immediate  surrounding,  my  mind  was  absorbed  in  con- 
templating the  subject  then  nearest  my  heart.  Mentally  I 
brought  in  review  the  different  devoted  attaches  of  the 
Agency,  who,  through  nativity  and  early  training,  were 
eligible  to  the  place  to  be  filled.  All  were  trustworthy,  as 
far  as  that  went ; all  were  courageous,  faithful  and  efficient  in 
positions  and  under  circumstances  ordinarily  calling  for  the 
exercise  of  these  qualities.  But  the  man  now  wanted  was  to 
meet  peculiar  dangers.  He  must  be  perfectly  qualified  in 
every  respect,  or  he  would  not  do.  It  was  no  discredit  to 
my  corps  of  detectives,  that  I quickly  dismissed  many  of  them 
as  inadequate  for  the  duty.  It  was  not  their  fault.  Had  I 
one  man  who  would  go  against  his  life-long  habits,  early 
impressions,  education,  and  his  inherited  as  well  as  acquired 
prejudices?  Was  there  one  who  held  sufficiently  broad  and 
deeply-grounded  notions  of  the  real  duty  of  a true  Irishman 
to  his  country  and  his  fellow-countrymen  to  intrust  with  this 
great  mission  ? I believed  that  I had,  but  which  one  was  it 
in  the  number  thus,  in  my  mind,  competing  for  the  honor  ? 
He  must  be  able  to  distinguish  the  real  from  the  ideal  moral 
obligation,  and  pierce  the  vail  separating  a supposed  from  an 
actual  state  of  affairs.  He  must  have  the  gift  of  seeing  that 
the  misguided  people  of  the  mining  districts  who  had  joined 
this  order  were  unquestionably  working  evil,  and  only  evil, 
to  Ireland,  Irishmen,  and  the  church,  in  lieu  of  doing  their 


20 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  TROPOSITION 


native  land  and  their  kindred  at  home  and  in  America  a 
service. 

While  Bishop  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  had  early  placed  his 
seal  of  condemnation  upon  the  Mollie  Maguires  in  the  coal 
regions,  and  the  clergy  had  followed,  almost  to  a man,  in 
bringing  the  individual  members  of  the  clan  before  them 
and  their  congregations,  and  heaped  dread  maledictions  upon 
their  heads,  calling  the  persons  by  name  in  public,  and  even 
cut  them  from  the  church  until  such  time  as  they  should 
renounce  their  membership,  still  I knew  many  good  Catho-  . 
lies,  and  honest  men  at  heart,  were  remaining  in  the  organi- 
zation, and  that,, in  some  more  peaceable  sections  of  the 
State,  the  priesthood,  if  not  tacitly  countenancing  the  so- 
ciety said  little  against  it.  To  their  credit  be  it  stated, 
however,  they  were  unanimous  in  their  abhorrence  of  the 
violent  acts  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  in  Schuylkill,  Carbon, 
Columbia,  and  Luzerne  counties.  I had  to  find  a man  who, 
once  inside  this,  as  I supposed,  oath-bound  brotherhood, 
would  yet  remain  true  to  me ; who  could  make  almost  a 
new  man  of  himself,  take  his  life  in  his  hands,  and  enter  upon 
a work  which  was  apparently  against  those  bound  to  him  by 
close  ties  of  nationality,  if  not  of  blood  and  kindred  ; and 
for  months,  perhaps  for  years,  place  himself  in  antagonism 
with  and  rebellion  against  the  dictates  of  his  church — the 
church  which  from  his  earliest  breath  he  had  been  taught  to 
revere.  He  would  perforce  obtain  a reputation  for  evil  con- 
duct, from  which  it  was  doubtful  that  he  could  ever  entirely 
extricate  himself.  Would  the  common  run  of  men  think 
such  a position  at  all  tenable?  Would  they  consent  to 
ostensibly  degrade  themselves  that  others  might  be  saved  ? 
My  man  must  become,  really  and  truly,  a Mollie  of  the 
hardest  character,  attend  their  meetings,  and  possibly  be 
charged  with  direct  participation  in  certain  of  their  crimes. 
He  must  face  the  priest,  and  endure  the  bad  opinion  of  his 
countrymen  even  until  the  end.  For  an  indefinite  period 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  PROPOSITION.  21 

he  was  to  be  as  one  dead  and  buried  in  the  grave — dead 
to  his  family  and  friends — sinking  his  individuality — and  be 
published  abroad  as  the  companion  and  associate  of  assassins, 
murderers,  incendiaries,  thieves,  and  gamblers.  In  no  other 
way  could  I hope  to  secure  admission  to  the  inner  circle  of 
this  labyrinth  of  iniquity.  By  no  other  plan  could  the  clan  be 
exposed  and  its  volume  of  crime  clasped  forever.  Another 
thing  : The  Mollie  Maguires  were  working  in  opposition  to 
the  Welsh,  English,  and  German  miners.  Their  hatred  of 
the  English,  especially,  they  had  imbibed  with  their  mothers’ 
milk.  I was,  if  possible,  to  destroy  the  Mollie  Maguires. 
Therefore,  my  operatives  must  be  the  instruments  of  that 
destruction.  Then  how  difficult  for  any  Irishman  to  enter 
upon  the  warfare  ? If  he  had  the  ability  to  see  far  enough, 
however,  it  would  be  understood  that  the  leaders  of  the 
obnoxious  society  were  simply  apostates — men  disloyal  to 
the  land  of  their  birth — engaged  in  an  unholy  effort,  and 
one  which,  successful  or  not,  reflected  discredit  upon  all  of 
their  countrymen.  Beholding  and  understanding  this,  the 
detective  would  not  be  working  merely  to  right  the  wrongs 
of  this  man  or  that  man,  but  to  wipe  off  a dark  blot  which 
had  fallen  upon  the  escutcheon  of  Ireland,  and  which  clouded 
the  fair  fame  of  every  Irishman  in  America.  Then  he  would 
meet  the  cry,  in  the  mines  and  elsewhere,  of  “ persecution  for 
opinion’s  sake,”  and  the  danger  of  “a  conflict  between  capi- 
tal on  the  one  side  and  labor  on  the  other.”  Would  he  be 
shrewd  enough  to  detect  the  untruthfulness  of  one  and  the 
insincerity  of  the  other  ? Surely  here  was  a task  for  me,  in 
: the  very  outset,  the  fellow  of  which  I had  not  encountered 

since  the  war  of  the  rebellion. 


22 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 

By  the  time  I had  reached  headquarters,  in  Chicago,  I 
imagined  that  I might  need  a man  for  the  Mollie  Maguire 
operation,  who,  among  other  acquirements  and  qualifications, 
was  also  a practical  miner.  My  plans  had  even  partially 
assumed  shape  for  a flying  visit  to  some  of  the  coal  districts  of 
Southern  Illinois  and  Ohio,  where  it  was  possible  I might 
chance  upon  a person  of  the  needed  character.  Then  it 
occurred  to  me,  even  though  I could  secure  an  experienced 
worker  in  the  bituminous  shafts  and  drifts,  he  would  naturally 
be  almost  as  much  at  fault  in  the  art  of  delving  in  the  slopes 
and  gangways  of  the  anthracite  fields  as  one  entirely  unedu- 
cated in  mining.  He  might  have  the  trained  muscle  and 
capacity  of  bodily  endurance,  yet  possess  no  available  knowl- 
edge of  the  anthracite  branch  of  the  business.  Then  a party  of 
this  sort  must  necessarily  be  a stranger  to  the  intricate  duties 
of  my  profession,  and  have  about  everything  to  acquire  from 
the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder  upward.  There  was  another 
objection — and  it  had  more  weight  than  everything  befofe 
enumerated  : I could  not  rely  upon  the  truthfulness  and  faith- 
fulness of  a new  acquaintance  as  I might  upon  that  of  one  who, 
after  years  of  training  under  my  own  direction,  had  made  him- 
self an  expert  in  the  detection  of  criminals.  Clearly,  then,  I 
must  select  my  operative  for  this  case,  as  for  any  other,  from 
my  regular  force — at  least  employ  a detective  that  had  been 
connected  with  one  or  all  of  the  offices  in  the  Chain  of  Agen- 
cies. Who  should  it  be  ? This  was  the  all-important  question. 
Several  of  my  best  men,  who  were,  in  most  emergencies,  men- 
tally and  physically  capable  of  filling  the  place,  I took  occa- 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 


23 


sion  to  carefully  approach  and  sound  as  to  their  opinions  and 
acts  under  certain  supposititious  and  somewhat  analogous  cir- 
cumstances but  such  as  were  not  too  nearly  similar  to  those 
under  consideration,  and  soon  found  that  they  would  never 
do.  One,  who  was  precisely  the  man  called  for  in  other  par- 
ticulars, had  an  invalid  wife  and  a family  of  small  children, 
and  I would  not  ask  him  to  take  the  position.  There  was  a 
chance  that  he  might  be  disabled,  or  even  lose  his  life,  and 
thus  leave  his  mate  and  their  helpless  innocents  to  the  cold 
charity  of  an  unfeeling  world.  Another  almost  as  good  was 
soon  to  be  married  to  an  estimable  young  lady.  A third  had 
some  blemish  e;ccluding  him  from  the  list,  and  I had  not  yet 
hit  upon  the  agent  to  be  sent  to  the  land  of  mountains  and 
dales  and  the  home  of  the  Mollie  Maguires. 

One  morning,  however,  as  I was  riding  from  home  to 
Fifth  Avenue — standing,  as  usual,  upon  the  rear  platform  of  a 
crowded  West  Side  street  car — I recognized  in  the  person  of 
the  conductor  an  operative  previously  escaping  considera- 
tion. He  was  engaged  working  his  part  of  a delicate  job 
connected  with  the  railway  interest,  and  for  some  months 
had  not  been  in  a position  in  which  he  was  called  upon  to 
report  to  me  personally.  The  thought  instantly  found  lodg- 
ment in  my  mind : “ If  this  man  is  mentally  correct,  and 
willing,  he  is  just  the  instrument  fitted  for  my  mining  opera- 
tion.” I was  satisfied  that  he  could  be  spared  from  his  car 
and  the  case  he  was  assisting  in,  and  another  detective  put 
in  his  place,  and  immediately  upon  reaching  the  office,  sent 
a note  to  the  young  man’s  boarding-house,  asking  him  to 
meet  me  at  my  rooms  as  soon  as  his  day’s  work  was  ended, 
as  I had  something  to  submit  for  his  consideration. 

James  McParlan,  the  detective  alluded  to,  was  born  in  the 
province  of  Ulster,  County  Armagh,  Parish  of  Mullabrack, 
Ireland,  in  1844;  consequently,  at  the  date  mentioned,  was 
in  his  twenty-ninth  year.  His  father  and  mother  were  living. 
He  had  been  a member  of  my  force  for  about  a year.  Com- 


24 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 


ing  to  America  in  1867,  having  previously  seen  some  service  - 
in  chemical  works,  at  Gateshead,  County  Durham,  England, 
and  subsequently,  in  the  same  capacity,  at  Wallsend,  Eng- 
land, the  first  place  he  filled  after  landing  at  Castle  Garden 
was  that  of  second  clerk  in  a small  grocery  house  on  Ninth 
Avenue,  city  of  New  York.  At  a later  period  he  became 
salesman  for  a country  dealer  in  drygoods,  named  Cummings, 
at  Medina,  Orleans  County,  in  the  same  State.  His  salary 
was  exceedingly  small,  and  besides,  not  easily  collectible ; 
and,  after  a short  apprenticeship  to  the  profession  of  coun- 
ter-jumping and  measuring  ribbons,  laces,  and  calicoes,  he 
resigned,  and  adopted  Greeley’s  advice  to  young  men,  with  a 
course  of  travel  due  westward.  Reaching  Buffalo,  he  tarried 
there  but  a few  days  and  then  came  to  Chicago.  After  filling 
different  situations,  he  applied  for  and  secured  employment 
in  my  establishment. 

Of  medium  height,  a slim  but  wiry  figure,  well  knit  to- 
gether ; a clear  hazel  eye ; hair  of  an  auburn  color,  and  bor- 
dering upon  the  style  denominated  as  “sandy  a forehead 
high,  full,  and  well  rounded  forward ; florid  complexion, 
regular  features,  with  beard  and  mustache  a little  darker  h 
than  his  hair,  there  was  no  mistaking  McParlan’s  place  of 
nativity,  even  had  not  his  slight  accent  betrayed  his  Celtic 
origin.  He  was  in  fact  a fine  specimen  of  the  better  class 
of  immigrants  to  this  country  from  the  poet’s 

“ First  flower  of  the  earth  and  first  gem  of  the  sea.” 

He  was  passably  educated,  had  beheld  and  brushed 
against  the  people  of  a considerable  portion  of  the  New  World 
during  the  short  time  he  had  been  in  it,  and  earned  a reputa- 
tion for  honesty,  a peculiar  tact  and  shrewdness,  skill  and 
perseverance  in  performing  his  numerous  and  difficult  duties',, 
and  worked  himself  into  the  jDosition  of  a firm  favorite  with 
those  of  my  employes  intimately  associated  with  him.  Thus 
far  I certainly  found  na  ))articu1ar  fault  with  McParlan. 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 


25 


The  same  day  McParlan,  clad  in  his  ordinary  but  cleanly 
citizen’s  attire^  entered  my  private  office,  and  I invited 
him  to  take  a seat.  The  conference  which  immediately 
followed  was  long,  confidential,  and  interesting  to  the  two 
taking  part  in  it ; but  particulars  need  not  be  given  here, 
as  results  achieved  will  exhibit  the  nature  of  the  conversa- 
tion, which  has  also  been  foreshadowed  in  the  preceding 
pages.  More  light  will  be  thrown  upon  the  subject  during 
the  progress  and  development  of  events.  Suffice  it  that 
in  James  McParlan  I recognized  the  very  person  to  whom 
1 could  safely  and  confidently  intrust  my  plans  for  the  cam- 
paign in  Pennsylvania.  While  he  was  not  left  in  the  dark  as 
to  the  dangers  to  be  encountered — and,  in  fact,  these  were  as 
fully  explained  as  it  was  possible  to  perceive  them  at  the 
time — he  made  known  his  desire  to  assume  the  part,  and  said 
he  would  experience  pleasure  in  being  sent  where  he  could 
be  of  use  to  me  and  to  his  country. 

“ I will  do  my  utmost  to  bring  the  job  to  a speedy  and 
successful  termination,”  he  remarked  with  earnestness. 

“ Remember,  McParlan,”  I urged,  at  the  close  of  this 
portion  of  our  interview,  “ your  refusal  to  accept  the 
responsibility — while  I can  but  acknowledge  it  would  prove 
a disappointment — will  not  injure  you  in  my  estimation,  or 
prevent  your  employment  by  me  in  the  future.” 

“ Mr.  Pinkerton,”  answered  the  operative,  rising  from  his 
chair,  “ I am  not  in  your  Agency  to  object  to  such  a thing  as 
this  seems  to  be  ; on  the  contrary,  I am  anxious  to  go,  and 
ready  to  start  at  the  word  of  command  I ” 

“That  settles  it,  then,”  said  I.  “Report  to  me  to-mor- 
row forenoon,  when  your  instructions  and  credentials  will  all 
be  prepared  and  you  can  take  the  night  train  for  Philadel- 
phia.” 

Seemingly  satisfied,  the  young  man  went  his  way. 

! It  was  easy  to  see,  by  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
that  McParlan’ s sympathies  were  earnestly  enlisted  in  the 
2 


26 


THE  MAN  FOR  THE  WORK. 


case,  only  the  bare  outlines  of  which  had  as  yet  been  com- 
mitted to  his  care,  and  if  he  failed  it  would  not  be  from  want 
of  zeal,  or  lack  of  earnest  desire  to  well  and  trolly  perform 
his  duty. 

“ And  so  Mr.  Pinkerton  is  after  sending  me  to  England, 
as  he  kindly  says,  for  the  betterment  of  my  health,  an’  to 
look  after  the  King  Bee  of  all  the  forgers,”  remarked  Me- 
Parian,  in  his  pleasant  way,  the  next  afternoon,  to  my  cash- 
ier, as  he  received  the  advance  of  money  for  his  expenses. 
He  repeated  about  the  same  manner  of  adieu  when  handed 
his  papers  by  the  chief  clerk,  and  it  soon  spread  throughout 
the  apartment,  among  the  clerical  force,  that  the  happy  man 
was  “ to  take  the  tour  of  Europe  at  my  expense.”  After 
bidding  all  good-by,  and  the  reception  of  a warm  grasp  of 
the  hand  and  an  earnest  word  of  caution  from  me  to  “have 
a care  of  himself,”  McParlan  left  the  Agency. 

I'he  man  had  been  found,, and  was  at  last  entering  upon 
his  extra-hazardous  mission — not  bound  for  England,  how- 
ever. It  was  well  enough,  under  the  circumstances,  that  all 
of  the  detective’s  personal  friends  and  acquaintances — espe- 
cially those  outside  the  office — should  believe  that  he  was 
about  to  cross  the  wide  Atlantic. 

McParlan’s  instructions  were  as  complete  and  compre- 
hensive as  they  well  could  be  made  at  short  notice;  but 
of  course,  after  generally  counseling  him  concerning  the  true 
object  of  his  labors,  considerable  had  to  be  confided  to  his 
own  judgment  and  discretion,  at  least  until  fairly  launched 
upon  his  undertaking,  when  all  would  see  what  was  best,  and 
not  best,  to  be  done.  Leaving  the  detective  to  perform  his 
difficult  role.,  under  my  directions,  I shall  now  proceed  to 
give,  in  detail,  a description  of  his  acts,  as  represented  in  the 
reports.  It  should  be  understood,  however,  though  the  fact 
may  not  appear  in  this  narration  of  events,  that  McParlan 
was  almost  daily  in  communication  with  me,  through  Mr. 
Franklin,  the  Philadelphia  superintendent,  and  was  required 


SEEKING  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  2/ 


to  keep  us  aware  of  his  every  important  movement,  by  letter. 
He  was  particularly  enjoined  to  use  discretion  in  the  send- 
ing of  messages  and  documents,  and  a plan,  not  necessary  to 
be  divulged,  arranged  by  which  all  interruptions  through  the 
mails  would  be  prevented.  I was  to  know  where  and  how 
to  connect  with  him  any  day  of  the  week,  and  all  changes 
of  locality  were  to  be  noted  as  early  as  might  be  possible. 
The  detective’s  adventures  in  the  mountains  of  Pennsylvania 
are  sufficiently  romantic  and  attractive,  if  properly  related, 
to  satisfy  the  most  exacting  reader,  without  the  author 
having  recourse  to  the  smallest  amount  of  extraneous  mat- 
ter, employing  any  of  the  powers  of  the  imagination,  or  the 
tricks  of  the  professional  novel-writer  in  enchaining  atten- 
tion. As 

“ Loveliness 

Needs  not  the  foreign  art  of  ornament, 

But  is,  when  unadorned,  adorned  the  most,” 

SO  with  the  simple  truth ; in  this  instance  it  demands  no 
elaborate  decoration,  no  enchanting  couleur  derose^  to  make 
it  entertaining. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  DETECTIVE  SEEKS  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 

After  several  days  very  profitably  spent  among  the  coal, 
canal,  and  dock  hands,  in  the  vicinity  of  Philadelphia, 
acquiring  some  knowledge  of  their  habits  and  occupations, 
and  at  the  same  time,  in  a measure,  habituating  himself  to 
the  wearing  of  a rather  novel  and  uncomfortable  costume 
with  which  Mr.  Franklin  had  been  kind  enough  to  provide 


28  SEEKING  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


him,  the  agent,  according  to  orders,  returned  and  reported  . 
to  the  superintendent  that  he  was  fully  prepared  to  com- 
mence his  work  in  the  mining  country. 

When  the  young  man  glanced  at  his  figure,  as  reflected  in 
a mirror,  he  found  it  difficult  to  believe  he  was  really  him- 
self and  not  some  wild  vagabond  who  had  usurped  his  place. 
,The  transformation  was  satisfactorily  complete.  He  beheld 
in  the  glass  the  shadow  of  a man  of  about  his  height  and  pro- 
portions, it  was  true,  his  head  covered  by  an  old,  dilapidated 
and  dirt-colored  slouch  hat,  with  plentiful  sj)ace  for  his  cutt;'- 
pipe  in  its  narrow,  faded  band ; a grayish  coat  of  coarse 
materials,  which  had,  from  appearances,  seen  service  in  a 
coal  bin,  and,  while  never  very  fine  in  make  or  fashion,  was 
considerably  the  worse  about  the  cuffs  and  skirts,  both  being 
frayed  out  to  raveled  raggedness,  from  rough  usage  by  its 
former  owner.  The  vest  was  originally  black,  but  the  years 
had  come  and  gone  in  such  numbers  since,  that  the  dye  was 
washed  away,  and  with  it  had  fled  the  surface  of  the  cloth 
and  most  of  the  worsted  binding  in  the  region  of  the  pockets. 
The  pantaloons,  of  brown  woollen  stuff,  were  whole,  but  too 
large  for  him  in  the  body,  and  worn  strapped  tight  at  the  ’ 
waist  with  a leather  belt,  which,  from  its  yellowish  and  ' 
broken  condition,  might  have  been  a former  bell-thong  off  . ^ 
the  neck  of  some  farmer’s  cow,  appropriated  after  exposure  ^ 
to  all  kinds  of  wear  and  weather  for  a series  of  years.  The 
bosom  of  a heavy  gray  shirt  was  seen  beneath  the  waistcoat,  ^ 
and  exhibited  no  visible  vestige  of  a collar  ; but  a substitute  ^ 
was  formed  by  a red  yarn  cravat,  or  knitted  comforter,  1^ 
drawn  closely  around  the  wearer’s  neck  and  tied  in  a sailor’s 
knot  in  front.  The  under  garment  had  that  ^yhich  ordinary  1^ 
shirts  are  seldom  supplied  with — a pocket,  at  the  left  inner 
side,  for  tobacco.  His  boots  were  of  the  stoga,  hob-nailed, 
high-topped  style,  and  in  their  capacious  legs  easily  rested 
the  bottoms  of  the  pantaloons.  With  face  unshaven  for  a 
week  or  ten  days,  and  hair  quite  dry  and  straggling,  from 


»o 

arii 

ill 


SEEKING  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  2Q 


want  of  proper  attention,  it  is  probable  that  McParlan’s 
mother,  had  she  been  present,  would  have  refused  him 
recognition.  He  could  only  be  convinced  that  he  was  him- 
self, by  reference  to  his  voice,  which  sounded  familiar  to  the 
ear.  In  his  satchels,  ready  packed,  were  supplies  of  writing 
paper,  envelopes,  stamps,  etc. ; also  a suit  of  clothes  a little 
better  than  that  upon  his  person,  for  occasional  Sunday 
wear.  Razor  and  strop  he  had  none.  Their  absence  was 
no  loss,  however,  as  he  did  not  propose  shaving  his  face 
until  circumstances  might  call  for  the  resumption  of  his 
natural  character. 

Monday,  the  27th  of  October,  1873,  was  an  eventful  day 
at  the  Philadelphia  Agency,  and  formed  an  epoch  in  the  life- 
history  of  at  least  one  man,  remembrance  of  which  will 
never  fail  until  his  latest  breath.  Then  it  was  that  James 
McParlan,  attired  and  accoutred  as  just  described,  his  heart 
hopeful  for  the  future,  but  in  fact  unknowing  and  unknown, 
kicked  the  dust  of  the  city  from  his  heels,  at  the  Callowhill 
street  depot  of  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway,  and 
after  purchasing  a ticket  for  Port  Clinton,  depositing  his  two 
valises — which  bore  every^outward  evidence  of  having  seen 
much  touGjh  usage  and  extended  travel  in  domestic  and 
foreign  parts — in  the  seat  beside  himself,  in  the  smoking-car 
of  the  afternoon  train,  set  out  upon  his  voyage  of  discovery 
I in  the  stronghold  of  the  Mollie  Maguires.  He  was  James 
McParlan  no  longer — but  James  McKenna,  as  I must  here- 
after call  him — ^and  he  looked  backward  upon  the  receding 
town,  and  considered  whether  he  would  survive  ever  again  to 
I take  his  old  name  and  place  in  the  world  and  see  the  broad, 
teeming  streets,  handsome  structures,  and  beautiful  girls  of 
the  Quaker  City.  To  him  it  then  seemed  he  was  cutting 
loose  from  all  the  nether  world.  Those  who  knew  hiih  best 
would  pass  him  by  unheeded  in  his  transforming  disguise  and 
[adopted  name,  and  even  his  intimate  associates — excepting 
Mr.  Franklin  and  I — in  Chicago  and  elsewhere,  fully  believed 


30  SEEKING  THE  I/AUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 

him  to  be  adrift  upon  the  blue  waters,  shaping  his  course 
to  lands  “ beyant  the  seas,”  only  to  return  after  the  lapse  of 
many  months.  Would  he  ever  return  ? That  was  a question, 
he  soon  decided,  which,  for  a favorable  response,  rested  with 
himself  and  the  manner  in  which  he  conducted  his  researches. 
He  was  sure  that  I watched  anxiously  over  him,  and  that 
Mr.  Franklin  was  prepared  to  do  everything  for  his  good, 
but  very  largely  would  he  be  the  worker-out  of  his  own  des- 
tiny. His  life  and  success,  or  his  failure  and  death,  reposed 
in  his  own  strength,  guarded  by  his  own  intellect.  While 
these  and  similar  thoughts  crowded  upon  his  brain,  the  de- 
tective was  traveling  onward.  Smoothly  and  swiftly  the  cars 
glided  over  the  track,  past  Belmont  Glen,  and  beyond  the 
outskirts  of  the  city.  Then  came  Fairmount  Park,  I^aurel 
Hill,  seen  from  the  far  distance,  and  closer  at  hand  the  broad, 
still  waters  of  the  Schuylkill,  of  which  Ireland’s  great  poet 
sang  and  on  whose  shores  he  once  found  that  repose  which 
his  weary  head  had  elsewhere  sought  in  vain.  It  was  not 
within  the  heart  of  a man  of  McKenna’s  temperament,  or  in 
one  born  on  the  soil  of  the  beautiful  land  that  gave  him  birth, 
to  resist  the  temptation  to  search  out  Tom  Moore’s  cottage 
and  feast  his  eyes  upon  its  walls  and  roof ; and  he  raised 
the  blind,  admitted  the  sunlight,  and  his  senses  drank 
in,  in  reverent  silence,  the  variegated  and  pleasing  land- 
scape. After  a time  came  Valley  Forge,  the  scene  of 
so  much  suffering  by  the  American  soldiers  under  General 
Washington,  in  the  memorable  winter  of  1777-8.  Indeed, 
the  country  throughout  this  vicinity  is  replete  with  points 
bringing  to  recollection  interesting  dates  and  facts  of  history. 
Through  the  kindness  of  a fellow-traveler,  who  sat  smoking 
in  a seat  near  him,  my  officer  was  made  familiar  with  some 
of  these  most  eventful  localities.  And  still  there  appeared  ; 
to  be  no  end  to  the  succession  of  hills  and  vales,  wooded  ■ 
mountain  sides  and  fertile  fields.  Yet  onward  swept  the 
train,  bearing  its  precious  living  freight. 

i 


I 

t 


He  entt'red^  restin;^  his  hurden  upon  the 


SEEKING  THE  HA  C/NTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  3i 


Passing  beyond  the  populous  city  of  Reading,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  the  agricultural  lands  began,  as  the  stranger 
thought,  a silent  struggle  with  rocks  and  rills  and  more  rugged 
mountains.  As  they  still  proceeded  swiftly  on  their  route, 
the  rough  country  gained  the  mastery,  and  the  fleeting  show 
increased  in  boldness,  culminating  in  a grand  and  craggy 
beauty  when  the  locomotive  whistled  ‘‘down  the  brakes”  at 
a point  some  distance  short  of  Port  Clinton.  By  this  time 
portentous  clouds  had  arisen  darkly  in  the  west,  as  the  sun 
sunk  to  its  couch,  and  there  were  other  premonitions  of  an 
impending  storm  of  wind  and  rain. 

Port  Clinton  is  seventy-eight  miles  from  Philadelphia,  at  a 
spot  where  the  two  great  forks  of  the  Schuylkill — the 
Schuylkill  proper  and  the  Little  Schuylkill — form  a union, 
both  having  had  their  origin,  not  so  far  separated,  in  the 
distant  northern  coal-fields. 

It  was  eight  o’clock  in  tlie  evening  when  McKenna,  with 
baggage  swinging  from  his  shoulder,  stood  for  the  first  time 
upon  the  floor  of  the  massive,  brown-stone,  turret-roofed  depot 
building  at  Port  Clinton  and  looked  about  him  for  a house 
which  might  yield  him  a night’s  lodging  and  stij^per,  as  he 
was  both  sleepy  and  hungry  after  his  ride  and  the  unusual 
excitements  of  the  day.  Starting  out  into  the  increasing 
darkness,  he  was  unable  to  see  and  appreciate  the  tall  mouip 
tains  towering  above  him  on  all  sides  ; but,  feeling  his  way 
carefully,  he  crossed  the  canal  bridge  and  sought  a public 
house.  Seeing  a bright  light  not  far  away,  he  directed  his 
steps  toward  it,  and  in  a short  time  came  to  a structure 
which  proved  to  be  a village  tavern  or  saloon.  Thinking, 
despite  the  sounds  of  revelry  heard  within,  that  it  might  be  a 
proper  stopping-place  for  him,  he  entered,  rested  his  burden 
on  the  floor — weary  enough  with  its  carriage,  and  wishing, 
thus  early,  he  had  been  content  to  leave  one-half  the  baggage 
at  home — and  civilly  inquired  of  the  presiding  genius — 
a big,  burly  fellow,  with  milky-white  eyes,  a cherry-red  nose, 


32  SEEKING  TIIE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


and  very  stiff,  black,  straight  hair,  planted  widely  apart  on  his 
bullet-shaped  head — who  had  evidently  “ too  much  taken  ” 
of  the  liquids  he  dispensed  to  others — when  they  had  funds  ! 
to  pay  for  them — if  he  could  have  supper  and  lodging  at  his  I 
hotel.  He  did  not  half-fancy  the  crowd  he  had  come  up  I 
with.  Mostly  of  the  lower  class  of  Germans,  the  men  were 
in  the  midst  of  a spree  that  bid  fair  to  last  until  another  day.  i 
Liquor  had  already  gained  control  of  their  senses,  and  their  ; 
personal  appearance  was  even  more  forbidding  than  that  of 
the  i>erson  who  so  suddenly  appeared  among  them,  and  for 
this  there  was  no  possible  necessity.  Those  of  the  number 
who  labored  at  all  found  employment  in  digging  a tunnel,  . 
which  was  in  course  of  excavation  in  the  neighborhood.  \ 
These  were  a few  points  which  the  new  arrival  gathered  from  j 
the  talk  of  the  occupants  of  the  small,  low,  smoke-begrimed 
bar-room.  Cocking  up  one  of  his  eyes  very  fiercely,  the  I 
landlord  looked  scowlingly  out  of  his  other,  from  beneath  its 
black,  beetling  brow,  and  insultingly  replied  : 

‘‘No  ! I geeps  no  victuals  nor  shake-downs  for  peebles 
like  you  ! Git  oud  ! You  wants  der  beds  and  der  meats, 
don’t  ye?  Git  oud  der  haus  ! Go  makes  your  schleeps  mit 
der  bigs  ! Oud  of  dis  blace,  or,  mein  Gott  in  himmel,  I gicks 
ye  right  away  oud  ! ” 

The  stranger,  not  choosing  to  move  as  fast  as  he  thought 
he  should,  the  landlord  continued,  while  he  advanced  upon 
McKenna: 

“ Look  dis  way^  poys  ! Dish  is  anodcr  of  dose  blun- 
dering dramps  ! Pitch  him  oud ! Teach  the  skalarnag 
better  manners  than  to  pass  de  country  around  schteel- 
ing  peeble’s  horses,  cows,  and  dings ! Put  him  oud 
quick  ! ” i 

Protesting  that  he  was  no  tramp,  but  seeiug  there  seemed  ' 
no  hope  of  securing  rest  or  food  under  that  inhospitable  roof, 
the  traveler  took  up  his  baggage  and  hurriedly  retreated 
from  the  apartment,  just  as  a general  rush  was  made  for  him 


SEEKING  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  33 


by  the  bystanders,  the  desire  being  to  seize  upon  his  person 
with  no  peaceable  intent. 

It  was  not  a ])art  of  McKenna’s  business  in  those  regions 
to  have  a, set-to  with  half  a dozen  infuriated  and  intoxicated 
men,  though  he  would  willingly  have  risked  something  to 
give  that  inn-keeper  a beating  ; hence,  he  slackened  not  his 
speed  until  he  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  street,  where 
he  stopped  a moment  to  consider  which  direction  he  should 
take. 

Here  was  a dilemma  ! Here  was  luck  for  him  ! To  make 
matters  worse,  the  rain,  which  for  some  hours  had  threat- 
ened, began  to  pour  down  in  torrents.  Presently  a man  * 
made  his  appearance,  coming  from  the  bar-room  and  ap- 
proaching the  detective.  When  near  him  the  citizen  said  : 

“Faith,  an’  ye  jist  missed  being  kilt  enthirely  by  the  mane 
scuts  there  within  ! ” 

McKenna  gathered  hope.  This  man  was  an  immigrant 
from  the  ould  sod. 

“ Where  do  you  come  from,  and  what  is  it  ye’d  be  afther 
havin’  here?” 

“ I’m  late  from  New  York — later  from  Colorado — an’  what 
is  it  I’m  here  fur?  Is  that  it?  What  should  a dacent  Irish 
lad  want  whose  stomach  is  full  of  emptiness  and  ne’er  a 
morsel  of  bread  or  mate  in  the  wallet  ? What  I want  is 
worruk,  and  somethin’  to  relave  my  hunger  ! A place  to 
slape  in  wouldn’t  be  inconvanient,  aither  !” 

This  seemed  to  content  the  man  from  the  tavern. 

“An’  if  ye  are  sakin’  work,  you’re  no  thramp,  for  little’s 
the  hand’s  turn  of  that  they  ever  do  ; an’  I know  you’re  no 
thafe,  from  your  accint,  which  is  like  me  own,  barrin’  the 
Dublin  twang,  so  I’ll  even  be  better  to  ye  than  the  Dutch- 
man— who,  by  the  way,  is  not  as  bad  as  he  seems.  You 
jist  came  upon  him  in  an  unlucky  time,  an’  the  drink  at  the 
fore  too  ! Only  yesterday  it  was  that  a brace  of  strollers  stole 
away  his  only  cow — begging  the  pardon  of  the  whiskey. 


34  SEEKING  THE  HAUNTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


barrel,  an’  its  contints  is  not  exactly  suitable  for  swatening 
the  coftee,  sure, — and  they  druv  her  off  to  the  next  neigh- 
bor’s beyant,  where  they  sold  the  baste,  fur  all  the  worruld 
as  if  they  owned  her — the  blackguards  ! As  natural  as  iver 
can  be,  Mr.  Staub — that’s  the  tavern-kee})er’s  name,  an’ 
mine’s  Timmins,  be  the  same  token — has  no  love  left  to 
squander  on  tramps;  an’  takin’  you  fur  one — an’  where 
could  have  been  his  two  eyes,  an’  his  ears,  meanwhiles  ? — he 
gives  you  the  back  of  his  hand  nately,  and  tlie  hardest  words 
he  can  lay  his  crooked  tongue  to  ! He  thought  you  a thramp, 
and  he  mistrated  you  as  one  ! Still,  Staub’s  a clever  man 
when  the  djink’s  not  in  him,  an’  many’s  the  poor  fellow  I’ve 
seen  him  take  in  out  of  the  cowTd,  and  give  a sup  an’  a bed, 
who  hadn’t  the  shadow  o’  sixpence  to  bless  himself  wid  ! ” 
“Sure,  an’  I’m  no  tramp!”  answered  McKenna,  “an’ 
what  1 wants  in  the  way  of  atin’  an’  drinkin’,  for  the  j)resent, 
at  laste,  I’m  able  to  pay  fur  ! I’ve  two  strong  arms,  an’  an 
honest  heart,  God  be  thanked  ! an’  when  my  cash  is  all 
spent,  I can  dig,  or  do  something  honorable  for  more,  with- 
out help  from  such  rubbish  as  big  Misther  Staub  I ” 

Timmins,  the  soft-hearted,  responded  : 

“ I’ll  e’en  do  better  by  you,  me  laddy-buck,  than  the 
scullions  you  have  left  ! Come  home  wid  me  fur  the  night, 
an’  stay  longer  if  ye  likes  ; you  are  as  welcome  as  the  birds 
in  spring — an’  tho’  its  coinin’  late  we  are,  my  old  woman 
will  give  you  somewhat  for  your  stomach,  an’  a bed  to  rest 
your  tired  bones  upon,  at  all  events  ! ” 

“ As  an  argument  in  favor  of  his  acceptance  of  the  offer, 
just  at  that  moment  the  rain  poured  down  heavier  than  before, 
and  the  wind  beat  the  large  drops  into  the  faces  of  the  men 
with  a force  which  was  uncomfortable. 

“ I’ll  go  wid  you,  Mr.  Timmins — an’  many  thanks  foi 
your  kind  offer  1 ” 

And,  taking  one  valise  in  his  left  hand,  keeping  the  right 
free  for  whatever  might  occur,  the  operative  committed  the 


SEEKING  THE  HA  C/NTS  OF  THE  MOLLIES,  35 


remainder  of  his  portable  property  to  Timmins’  care.  Per- 
mitting that  personage  to  lead  the  way,  they  started. 

“ I wonder  if  I’m  about  to  be  robbed  and  murdered,  thus 
early  in,my  career  in  these  mountains,”  was  the  thought 'that 
flitted  through  the  detective’s  mind  as  he  followed  the  form 
of  his  retreating  host,  with  his  right  hand  resting  on  his 
repeater,  which  he  had  convenient  in  his  coat  pocket.  But 
nothing  to  further  excite  his  fears  occurred.  Timmins  only 
appeared  anxious  to  keep  the  traveling  bag  from  the  rain, 
by  tucking  it  carefully  under  his  arm,  and  covering  it  with 
the  folds  of  the  cape  of  his  heavy  cloak.  They  advanced 
rapidly,  and  Timmins,  in  default  of  a lantern,  exerted  him-* 
self  to  illuminate  their  devious  way  with  sharp  sallies  of 
genuine  humor,  elicited  in  original  comments  upon  the  state 
of  the  weather  and  “illigant  condition  of  the  highway.” 
The  stranger  laughed  heartily,  which  was  compensation 
sufticient  for  the  jester,  who  was  merely  trying  to  make  him- 
self agreeable. 

“ An’  here  we  are,  betimes,  hard  by  the  home  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Timmins — -and  that’s  me  an’  my  good  wife — but  divil 
a glimmer  of  a light  is  there  in  the  windy,  which  is  something 
uncommon  with  Mrs.  Timmins  ! ” 

The  conclusion  of  these  remarks  brought  the  pedestrians, 
soaking  wet,  and  desirous  of  putting  themselves  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  rain,  by  the  side  of  a large  wooden  structure, 
which  might  be  tenantless,  from  all  that  any  outsider  could 
hear,  or  see,  for  that  matter,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

“Phat’s  up  now,  I wonder?”  said  Timmins,  who  found 
his  effort  to  enter  the  place  stubbornly  resisted  from  within. 
There  was  no  bolt  or  bar,  he  said,  but  come  open  the  door 
would  not.  A soft,  partly  yielding  but  insurmountable  ob- 
stacle, resisted  the  pushing  of  the  two  men,  who  unitedly 
tried  to  shove  in  the  barrier. 

Then  movements  were  heard  inside,  and  presently  came  a 
woman’s  voice  : 


3^ 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


“Is  that  you,  Tony  ! ” ! 

“Yes!  lx.  is  me  I An’  phat  the  wonder  is  it  that  fastens  ‘ 
the  door?  It’s  leaping  myself  an’  a stranger  out  here  in  the 
drinchin’  rain,  ye  are  I ” ! 

“ Wait  a minute,  'I'ony.  An’  glad  I am,  sure,  that  ye  came 
as  ye  did,  and  I not  cold  as  a stone,  fit  fur  me  grave  clothes  ! 

Let  me  light  the  candle  an’  maybe  I can  help  yez*!  It’s  the 
body  of  a man — whether  alive  or  dead,  I can’t  say,  that  so  t 
bolts  the  door  agin  yez  I An’  me  an’  the  wee  childer  here 
all  alone  until  this  minit  ! God  be  praised,  ye  came  in  the 
very  nick  of  time  !”  - 

Here  was  a denouement  for  the  detective’s  first  day’s 
work,  and  one  he  was  not  well  pleased  with.  His  compan- 
ion, Timmins,  from  the  manner  in  which  he  spluttered  and 
tore  about  the  front  yard,  was  either  very  badly  frightened 
or  very  mad,  McKenna  could  not  decide  which. 

“ I’ll  soon  see  who  the  scoundrel  is,  an’  dead  or  alive,  I 
wouldn’t  Stan’  in  his  boots  for  any  small  sum  I When  I get  ij 
at  him.  I’ll ” 

A light  now  appeared  within,  and  the  man’s  threat  was 
cut  short  by  hearing  the  creaking  of  boards,  as  if  some 
person  carefully  Grossed  the  floor.  Then  Timmins  put  his 
face  to  the  entrance,  and  a whispered  consultation  between 
himself  and  his  wife  took  place,  the  purport  of  which  the 
traveler  could  not  comprehend. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

STIRRING  UP  A WASP’s  NEST. 

They  were  not  long  in  suspense,  as  Mrs.  Timmins,  after 
closing  the  interview  with  her  husband,  gathered  resolution 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP’S  NEST. 


37 


to  grasp  the  seemingly  inanimaTe  body  by  the  arm,  and  to 
drag  it  away  from  the  entrance.  McKenna  and  his  friend 
then  went  into  the  place — used  as  kitchen,  washing,  and 
dining-room,  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  custom  of 
the  locality.  Anthony  Timmins  at  once  seized  upon  the 
pewter  candlestick,  held  the  dame  of  the  taper  close  to  the 
face  of  the  supposed  dead  man,  almost  scorching  the  eye- 
brows in  his  eagerness  to  discover  who  it  might  be  ; then, 
breaking  out  into  loud  laughter,  he  returned  the  light  to 
Mrs.  Timmins,  raised  his  two  hands  above  his  head,  slightly 
bending  his  knees  as  if  about  to  sit  down  on  the  floor,  his 
hat  falling  off  sidewise  meantime,  and  fairly  shouted,  be- 
tween the  rapidly  following  explosions  of  uncontrollable 
mirth  which  had  quickly  taken  the  place  of  his  former  anger  : 

“ By  the  hill  o’  Howth  ! An’  its  only  poor  ould  man  Fox, 
of  the  wee  patch  beyant  the  mountains,  as  harmless  as  a 
suckin’  dove,  but,  to  his  own  sorrow,  a great  drunkard ! 
He’s  now  what  wan  might  call  down,  dead  insensible  wid 
the  poteen  he  has  taken.” 

And  Timmins  could  scarcely  postpone  more  laughter  long 
enough  to  introduce  his  companion  to  Mrs.  Timmins,  after 
which  brief  ceremony  he  said  : 

“ No  wonder  on  earth  that  we  couldn’t  open  the  door, 
wid  all  this  lump  of  fat  an’  iniquity  braced  forninst  it  ! He 
weighs  two  hundred  poun’  ’f  wan  ounce  ; an’  besides,  the 
heel  of  his  shoe  wor  caught  in  the  crack  under  the  door — 
which  by  the  same  token  is  wider  nor  will  be  comfortable 
next  month — holdin’  it  like  a wedge,  nate  and  tight  against 
us  ! ” 

“ Oh,  what  a dawshy  clodhopper  I must  have  been,”  said 
Mrs.  Timmins,  in  an  excellent  brogue,  “ to  be  scared  at  ould 
man  Fox  ! .He’s  his  own  worst  inimy,  is  Paddy  Fox,  an’  he 
came  here  unbeknownst  to  me — as  to  who  he  wor,  at  laste — 
just  as  it  grow’d  dark,  an’  before  I had  lighted  the  candle, 
an’  he  stumbled  into  the  kitchen,  an’  I didn’t  know  him  from 


38 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


the  deil’s  own  grandfather ; an’  1 jist  ran  into  the  bedroom, 
the  cliilder  wid  me,  an’  fastened  the  door,  exiiectin’  every 
minute  he’d  rouse  up  an’  begin  to  rob  the  house  ! I sup- 
posed he  wor  a tramp,  for  all  the  wurruld,  an’  1 didn’t  dare 
make  a noise,  or  strike  a light,  for  fear  we’d  be  murthered 
outright ! An’  how  glad  I wor  when  I heard  your  steps  on 
the  gravel  outside  ! ” 

So  the  fright  about  a dead  man  barring  the  door  was  not 
much  of  a scare  after  all.  At  least,  there  was  very  small 
cause  for  disturbance,  as  a drunken  person  was  not  such  an 
extraordinary  thing  to  see  in  that  house.  Fox  was  allowed 
to  remain  where  he  was,  Timmins  having  thrown  an  old 
quilt  over  him  to  keep  him  warm,  saying  that  he  would  “be 
all  right  by  the  mornin’  1 ” 

Mrs.  Timmins,  good  woman  that  she  was,  rekindled  a fire 
and  prei)ared  an  excellent  supper  for  the  stranger,  consisting 
of  bacon  and  eggs,  and  baked  potatoes  with  strong  coffee, 
to  which  McKenna  helped  himself  with  unwonted  relish. 
After  satisfying  his  appetite,  he  and  Timmins  played  a couple 
of  games  of  euchre,  took  a few  drinks  from  a keg  kept  in  one 
corner,  supported  on  a couple  of  sticks,  and  which  was  under 
the  exclusive  control  of  Mrs.  Timmins — she  sold  the  liquor 
to  her  customers  from  a tin  cup — then  the  wet,  weary,  and 
sleepy  traveler  retired  to  his  bed  quite  in  the  dark,  in  a room 
in  the  second  story  of  the  building,  first  having,  thrown  his 
damp  clothes  down  the  staircase  to  Mr.  Timmins,  with  a re- 
quest that  they  be  allowed  to  dry  before  the  kitchen  fire. 

Anthony  Timmins  and  his  wife  kept  what  was  known  as  a 
railroad  boarding-house  or  tavern,  for  the  accommodation  of 
laborers  employed  on  the  adjacent  tunnel,  and  a fair  living, 
and  something  smart  beside,  did  they  realize  from  their 
trouble  and  toil,  Mrs.  Timmins  being  not  at  alt  assisted  by 
the  three  tow-headed  children  which  followed  close  to  her 
heels  wherever  she  went,  and  called  her  “ mother.” 

The  slumbers  of  the  detective  were  sound  and  unbroken 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP^S  NEST. 


39 


until  the  hour  that  the  sunlight  of  another  clay  fell  full  on 
his  face  and  disturbed,  and  finally  awakened  him.  Looking 
about,  he  discovered  there  were  three  beds  in  the  low  room 
— one,  by  way  of  compliment,  devoted  to  his  own  particular 
use,  while  each  of  the  others  held  two  men,  of  whose  pres- 
ence the  previous  night  he  had  been  entirely  ignorant. 
Waiting  until  his  room-mates  had  gone  out,  McKenna  went 
to  the  door  and  shouted  to  Tim'mins  for  his  garments,^  which 
were  soon  brought  up  by  that  personage,  wishing  him  at  the 
same  time  “ the  top  o’  the  mornin’,  an’  many  happy  returns 
of  the  same  ! ” The  clothing  was  warm  and  dry,  and  the 
officer  felt  greatly  refreshed  by  his  season  of  repose.  At  the 
breakfast-table  he  learned,  not  greatly  to  his  surprise,  that 
the  company  he  had  to  keep  was  none  of  the  most  select  ; 
still  it  was  as  good  as  he  had  reason  to  anticipate  under  the 
circumstances.  In  fact,  he  thought  if  he  should  secure,  for 
the  future,  equally  decent  associates,  he  might  consider  him- 
self fortunate.  The  men  about  him  asked  no  questions,  but 
devoured  their  meal  almost  in  silence,  and  then  set  out  for 
their  work  on  the  tunnel. 

The  long  table  of  unplaned  boards — covered  with  a coarse 
oil-cloth,  which  had  once  been  of  a variegated  mahogany 
color,  but  had  faded  with  much  rubbing  and  use  to  a dark 
dirt  hue — was  flanked  on  either  side  by  equally  rough  wooden 
benches  of  the  same  length,  on  which  the  boarders  sat  when 
they  partook  of  their  food.  There  were  no  chairs  in  that 
house ; those  too  proud  to  occupy  the  benches  while  at 
dinner  could  stand  up  and  welcome.  Furnishing  the  table 
were  broad  tin  plates,  common  horn-handled  iron  knives 
and  forks,  which  the  landlady  had  not  for  months  found  time 
to  give  the  polishing  rub  of  “ brick-dust  and  a split  potato  ; ” 
pewter  table  and  tea  spoons  ; a can  for  vinegar  ; salt-cellar, 
and  pepj)er-box  of  japanned  tinware  ; pint  cups,  also  of  tin, 
for  the  coftee  ; a quart  measure  for  the  milk  ; another  for 
• molasses — sugar  was  not  permitted  on  that  table.  There 


40 


STIRRING  UP  A IVASP’S  NEST. 


was  fresh  bread  in  plenty,  and  meat  and  vegetables,  espe- 
cially white,  mealy  potatoes,  cooked  to  a turn,  with  their 
jackets  on,  in  absolute  profusion.  Butter  appeared  in  boun- 
tiful supply,  but  it  was  too  vigorous,  some  of  the  boarders 
said,  for  any  other  use  than  to  harness  to  a carriage  to  draw 
grist  to  mill.  In  other  words,  its  flavor  was  rank  and  taste 
abominable.  McKenna  felt  that  such  food  was  not  good  for 
him  the  moment  he  entered  for  his  breakfast,  and,  using 
everything  beside  that  was  nourishing,  he  quietly  gave  the 
butter  a deservedly  wide  berth. 

After  the  morning  meal,  and  having  given  some  attention 
to  his  boots,  which  were  drawn  on  with  difficulty — first 
having  to  soak  them  well  with  melted  tallow — McKenna 
took  a short  stroll  to  the  railvvav  work,  where  he  had  a talk 
with  the  boss,  and  with  some  of  the  hands  who  were  fellow- 
boarders.  He  gleaned  from  the  former  that  employment  for 
him,  just  then  and  there,  must  be  counted  as  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Labor  was  to  be  done^  but  the  price  was  low,  while 
workingmen  were  more  plentiful  than  whortleberries  on  the 
mountain.  There  were  too  many  German  miners  and  labor- 
ers in  the  vicinity  for  the  prosperity  of  the  Mollie  Maguires, 
he  could  easily  see,  without  asking.  After  making  a few 
other  calls,  the  traveler  returned  to  Timmins’,  where,  in  his 
triple-bedded  apartment,  he  managed  to  indite  a hurried 
report  to  Mr.  Franklin,  informing  him  of  his  whereabouts 
and  movements.  This  he  succeeded  in  depositing  in  the 
post-office.  The  address  upon  the  envelope  was  such  as  to 
disarm  and  thwart  suspicion.  It  had  been  prepared  for  his 
use  before  leaving  Philadelphia. 

In  the  afternoon  rain  fell  heavily,  and  therefore  no  work 
could  be  done  outside  the  tunnel  excavation  ; even  inside  it 
was  wet  and  uncomfortable,  and  many  of  the  men  remained 
at  home,  some  drinking,  others  dancing  and  singing,  and 
still  others  whiling  away  the  time  playing  various  games  at 
cards.  Among  these  laborers  were  several  members  of  the 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP^S  NEST. 


41 


Miners’  and  Laborers’  Union,  but  they  were  all  reticent,  after 
concurring  in  the  generally  expressed  opinion  that  mining 
and  railroading  were  dull  and  money  very  scarce  everywhere 
in  those  regions. 

The  ensuing  day  the  agent  settled  his  bill  at  Timmins’ 
tavern,  and,  as  the  weather  had  cleared  up  finely  during  the 
night,  bid  adieu  to  the  landlord,  his  wife  and  family,  and 
started  for  Sclmylkillhaven.  Arrived  there,  he  found  many 
men  at  work,  but  no  possible  chance  for  him  to  earn  a dollar. 
The  operations  carried  on  were  mostly  for  the  railroad.  He 
encountered  a few  miners  just  from  the  collieries  above,  and 
they  gave  the  visitor  nothing  in  the  way  of  hopefulness  as 
to  the  condition  of  affairs  where  they  had  been.  Laborers 
could  hardly  find  engagements  anywhere.  And  as  for  his  es- 
pecial subject  of  pursuit  and  object  of  inquiry,  the  element 
predominating  was  still  German  ; hence,  there  was  very  little 
to  detain  him  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  next  point  attended  to  was  Auburn,  about  five  miles 
from  Port  Clinton,  a small  country  place,  boasting  a couple  of 
planing-mills  and  a number  of  business  houses.  Here  noth- 
ing transpired  of  importance,  and  McKenna  toiled  back  on 
foot  over  the  mountain,  toward  the  hour  of  sunset,  to 
Schuylkillhaven,  where  he  had  deposited  his  baggage. 

A day  later  the  stranger  went  to  Tremont,  and  thence  to 
Sweet  Arrow.  Returning  to  the  first-mentioned  place  about 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of 
a number  of  his  countrymen  ; but  they  had  no  hints’  to  volun- 
teer— and  he  was  very  far  from  asking  any  foolish  questions 
in  this  connection — showing  that  they  were  even  aware  of 
the  existence  of  such  an  organization  as  the  Mollie  Maguires. 

A day  later  McKenna  encountered  Nicholas  Brennan,  a 
coal-miner  from  the  vicinity  of  Mt.  Pleasant,  near  Miners- 
ville.  Brennan  gave  out  that  he  was  also  a traveler,  engaged 
in  going  from  one  place  to  another  for  the  purpose  of  secur- 
ing work  at  his  calling  for  the  winter.  Their  pursuits  being 


•t 


42  STIRRING  UP  A WASP^S  NEST. 

ostensibly  similar.  McKenna  and  Brennan  soon  struck  up 
an  intimacy.  After  the  latter  had  more  than  once  tasted 
liquor  at  McKenna’s  expense,  he  thawed  out  considerably, 
became  pliable  and  talkative,  and  soon  had  much  to  remark 
about  “ the  power  that  made  English  landlords  quake.”  But 
he  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  such  a force  could  accomplish 
very  little,  if  anything,  in  the  anthracite  country  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  pretended  to  believe  the  Miners’  and  Laborers’ 
Union,  which  had  recently  been  formed,  would  prove  of  no 
benefit  to  working-men.  Brennan  prided  himself  upon  his 
discerning  shrewdness,  and  said,  early  in  his  conversation 
with  the  operative,  he  knew,  at  once,  upon  first  fixing  his 
eye  on  him,  that  he,  McKenna,  was  a boatman,  or  canal 
hand,  the  correctness  of  which  allegation,  for  his  own  pur- 
poses, that  gentleman  felt  constrained  to  acknowledge. 
Brennan  recommended  his  new-found  associate  to  go  to 
Tamaqua,  or  Mahanoy  City,  where  he  thought  mining  was 
moving  more  briskly  than  in  any  other  portion  of  the  State — 
especially  was  it  more  lively  than  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Pottsville.  He  concluded  his  lengthy  harangue  by  remark- 
ing, in  a significant  way — referring  to  the  localities  named  : 
“There’s  the  ground  where  the  boys  are  true  ! ” 

“ Then  they  are  the  very  places  I want  to  get  work  in,” 
responded  McKenna,  and,  watching  the  countenance  of 
Brennan,  he  was  sure  he  discovered  in  it  an  expression  of 
disappointment,  as  though  the  reply  made  to  “ the  ground 
where  the  boys  were  true  ” was  not  exactly  the  one  he  had 
anticipated  receiving.  Pretending,  however,  not  to  notice 
it,  the  detective  proposed  a game  at  cards,  “ jist  for  the  fun 
of  the  thing,”  and,  after  that  ended,  Brennan  was  so  much 
under  the  influence  of  spirits,  his  companion  was  forced  to 
cut  loose  from  him.  Nothing  more  could  be  elicited,  but 
McKenna  was  well  satisfied  that,  if  not  a simon-pure  Mollie 
Maguire,  his  late  opponent  in  euchre  knew  more  about  the 
society  than  he  cared  to  impart  to  a stranger.  He  made 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


43 


mental  note  of  the  words:  “There’s  the  ground  where  tlie 
boys  are  true ! ” and  could  not  help  thinking  they  were  in 
some  way  connected  with  the  mysterious  o.rder.  Brennan 
was  kind  enough  to  give  him  the  names  of  some  of  his  friends 
in  the  mines  ; these  he  also  treasured  in  his  memory,  to  be 
made  use  of  as  occasion  presented. 

The  next  day  Brennan  was  perfectly  sober,  and,  it  being 
the  first  of  November  and  a Catholic  holiday,  he  accompa- 
nied McKenna  to  church,  and,  after  service,  introduced  him 
to  everybody  he  knew  as  “ a young  man  from  Colorado,  in 
quest  of  work,”  the  stranger  soon  becoming  quite  popular 
with  a certain  class.  In  the  afternoon  all  adjourned  to  a 
convenient  saloon,  where  McKenna  kept  up  a continuous 
round  of  amusements  for  several  hours,  relating  wonderful 
stories  of  his  adventures  in  the  United  States  Navy  during 
the  late  war,  all  drawn  from  his  own  fertile  fancy,  but  cer- 
tainly very  interesting  to  his  listeners,  and  by  singing,  in 
good  style,  some  genuine  Irish  melodies.  Brennan  and  his 
companions  started,  the  same  afternoon,  for  Pottsville,  only 
three  miles  distant,  and  urged  McKenna  to  accompany 
them.  He  excused  himself,  on  the  score  of  being  compelled 
to  await  money,  due  him  for  work,  which  had  been  promised 
by  post  at  that  place,  and  the  young  fellows  reluctantly  de- 
parted without  him. 

Sunday,  the  second  of  November,  passed  without  the  oc- 
currence of  any  incident  worthy  of  note.  On  the  succeeding 
Monday  our  detective  rode  by  rail  twenty-four  miles,  stopping 
at  Pine  Grove,  where  he  found  the  shafts  still  some  seven 
miles  distant,  over  a rough  and  hilly  path,  and  did  not  visit 
them.  Small  was  the  loss  by  this,  however,  as  no  work  was 
being  prosecuted,  and  the  employes  were  scattering  to  vari- 
ous localities  until  such  time  as  operations  should  be  again 
commenced.  After  an  examination  of  the  tanneries  there, 
with  a few  small  machine-shops,  without  learning  anything 
of  value,  he  returned  to  Tremont,  at  which  place  he  met  a 


44 


STIRR/.VG  UP  A IVASP'S  ATP  ST. 


man  named  John  Delaney,  a miner,  who  was  seemingly  on  a 
regular  lark,  disbursing  his  money  lavishly,  and  imbibing 
drinks  industriously.  Delaney  was  of  Brennan’s  opinion, 
thinking  work  would  be  difficult  to  obtain  in  the  mines,  so 
few  were  being  operated,  and  railed  loudly  against  the  Phil- 
adelphia and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  charging  all 


the  existing  troubles  to  that  corporation.  'He  boasted  that 


they — the  miners — once  kept  the  Company  and  their  mines 
idle  for  eight  long  months,  and  could  do  so  again  if  goaded 
to  it.  He  was  equally  severe  in  his  denunciations  of  Ger- 
man, Welsh  and  English  miners,  and  their  “butties,”  alleging 
that  they — especially  the  Germans — had  everything  their 
own  way  about  the  vicinity  of  'Fremont,  but  it  was  different 
in  Shenandoah,  'Famaqua,  and  other  towns.  Delaney  was 
anxious  to  introduce  McKenna  to  all  of  tiis  personal  friends, 
and,  in  that  regard,  was  allowed  to  have  his  way,  the  detec- 
tive properly  considering  it  well  that  he  should  know  as 
many  men  of  the  right  character  as  possible.  'Fhey  might 
be  useful  as  references  at  other  localities.  He  therefore 
expressed  his  hearty  thanks  to  Delaney  for  his  exertions  in 
this  direction.  The  following  day,  having  eschewed  liquor 
for  a season,  Delaney  went  with  his  new-discovered  friend  to 
Donaldson,  where  he  made  him  acquainted  with  the  outside 
boss  of  the  mines,  going  even  as  far  as  to  ask  for  work  for 
the  “young  man,”  who,  he  said,  “was  jist  stharvin’  for  some- 
what to  lay  his  honest,  hard-workin’  hands  to  ! ” The  boss 
could  do  nothing,  however ; and,  after  examining  the  slopes 
and  walking  through  some  of  the  gangways,  talking  with  a 
miner  here  and  there,  they  revisited  the  upper  air.  Again 
it  was  discovered  the  Germans  held  the  ascendency  in  num- 
bers and  power,  and  managed  to  keep  it;  hence,  there  was  no 
opportunity  for  securing  employment.  -He  must  seek  else- 
where for  a body  of  the  Mollie  Maguires — the  Donaldson 
mines  were  not  their  abiding-place. 

The  next  point  on  the  list  for  examination  was  Middle 


/ 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


45 


Creek,  two  miles  distant,  over  the  mountain,  from  Tremont, 
where  the  men  were  equally  unlucky,  finding  no  work,  A 
walk  back,  through  rough  roads,  over  brambles  and  stones, 
and  dodging  laurel  and  alder  bushes,  gave  the  pedestrians 
appetites  for  their  suppers  when  they  reached  Tremont. 
Delaney  here  separated  from  McKenna,  after  a few  farewell 
glasses,  and  started  for  Pottsville,  at  which  place  he  said  he 
was  due,  and  had  friends  and  relatives. 

During  the  succeeding  Wednesday  the  detective  remained 
in  Tremont,  and,  after  dinner,  enjoyed  a walk  on  the  railway 
track,  the  weather  being  fine,  continuing  an  intimac)^  pre- 
viously begun  between  himself  and  the  switch-tender,  an  aged 
Emerald  Islander,  who  was  found  sitting  nigh  the  entrance 
to  his  little  box,  or  cabin — short,  stumpy,  gray-haired,  brown- 
faced, roughly  clad,  but  honest  and  sturdy-looking  withal — 
smoking  his  pipe  contentedly,  and  receiving  pleasurably  the 
cool  breeze  sweeping  up  the  valley.  Mike  Fitzgibbons,  the 
switchman,  was  a genuine  specimen  of  the  hard-working, 
steady,  reliable  Irish  peasantry,  and  he  was  never  known  to 
neglect  a duty. 

“An’  how  is  business  wid  ye  the  day?”  asked  McKenna, 
as  he  came  up  to  the  old  man’s  station,  preparing  his  tobacco 
meantime,  and  signaling  by  a significant  motion,  easily  un- 
derstood by  smokers,  for  a light  for  his  cutty-pipe,  which  was 
old  and  black,  as  well  as  fashionably  short  in  the  stem.  The 
switchman  tendered  his  doodeen,  which,  having  been  em- 
ployed, the  stranger  returned  to  its  owner,  with  thanks. 

“Arrah!  an’  about  all  davs  are  the  same  to  the  likes  o’ 
me  ! I am  to  the  fore  all  the  time  when  I’m  not  slapin’  an’ 
atin’  wid  Betty  and  the  childer.  I jist  mind  the  trains,  to 
prevint  misadventure.  Sure,  the  Company  gives  me  fair 
wages,  promptly  paid,  for  that  same  ! ” 

.“Thrue  for  ye,”  answered  McKenna;  “an’  hev  ye  any 
objection  to  me  takin’  a seat  by  ye,  on  the  settle  forninst 
the  wall,  while  I have  a puff  at  me  pipe  ? ” 


46 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


“ Not  the  laste  in  the  worruld  ! ” responded  Fitzgibbons,  j 
making  space  for  the  stranger  on  the  bench.  After  resting 
and  drawing  away  industriously  at  his  pipe  for  a few  mo- 
ments, McKenna  remembered  a Philadelphia  Inquirer  \w\\\c\\ 
he  had  obtained  that  forenoon  and  not  yet  examined,  and, 
taking  it  from  his  p.ocket,  commenced  reading.  He  knew 
this  would  excite  his  companion’s  curiosity.  Soon  Fitzgibbons 
remarked : 

“Would  ye  be  plazed  to  rade  to  me  a bit?  Me  eyes  are 
none  of  the  best,  an’  the  little  I has  I save  fur  the  good  of  | 
the  Company.  What  do  the  paper  say  about  the  State 
elections  ? ” 

“Fll  rade  to  ye  wid  pleasure,”  said  the  agent,  and  he 
proceeded  to  give  all  that  he  found  of  interest.  After  com- 
menting at  some  length  upon  the  contents  of  the  sheet,  and 
having  his  pipe  freshly  filled  with  McKenna’s  fragrant  to- 
bacco, the  switchman  was  more  chatty.  In  a little  while  he 
entered  his  box,  and  returned  bearing  in  his  hand  a copy  of 
the  welhknown  Boston  Pilots  which  he  proffered  to  his  com- 
rade. After  skimming  hastily  over  the  Irish  news  and  some 
telegraphic  intelligence,  he  came  to  an  article  headed,  “ The 
Mobocrats  of  Pennsylvania.”  This  he  read  carefully  aloud 
to  the  old  man.  It  was  a scathing  blow  at  the  Mollie 
Maguires,  giving  them  deserved  condemnation,  and  appeared 
in  the  shape  of  correspondence.  After  finishing  it,  McKenna 
asked  : 

“ What  is  this  all  about  ? ” 

Evidently  much  excited,  Fitzgibbons  answered  : 

“ But  isn’t  it  a sarching  piece,  though  ? It  slathers  them 
butcherin’  vagabones  widout  mercy ! O,  I would  like  to 
know  who  has  writ  it  !•” 

McKenna  kept  down  his  anxiety  to  learn  more,  and  said 
nothing,  when  the  switchman  continued  : 

“Ye  have  heard  of  the  society?  Av  coorse  ye  have! 

An’  now  they’ve  got  across  the  big  say,  till  America,  an’  into 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP^S  NEST. 


47 


the  mines  ! But  doesn’t  that  article  cut  them  deep,  tho’  ? 
It  has  created  quite  a ruction  here — and  no  wonder ! It 
was  a great  thing,  the  getting  up  of  that  piece  ! It  do  lay 
on  the  lash  to  the  backs  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  in  splendid 
style  ! ” 

The  old  man  was  evidently  an  opponent  of  the  order,  or 
he  was  endeavoring  to  draw  out  the  opinion  of  his  friend. 
McKenna  determined  to  let  him  know  what  he  was  supposed 
to  think,  but  which  was  the  very  opposite  of  his  real  con- 
victions. 

“It  must  be  that  such  writin’s  will  damage  the  interests 
of  the  Irish  people  in  the  coal  regions.  Don’t  you  agree 
wid  me  in  this  ? ” 

Fitzgibbons  was  touched  at  a tender  spot  and  flared  up  in 
an  instant,  moving  involuntarily  further  from  the  operative, 
his  dark  but  expressive  face  ablaze  with  honest  indignation, 
saying  veheu]ently  : 

“ No  ! I disagrees  wid  ye  in  that  altogether  ! It  is  the 
Niollie  Maguires  that’s  doin’  the  wrong!  Such  articles  in 
the  Pilot  will  have  a good  effect,  an’  do  somethin’ — of  which 
there’s  pressin’  want — toward  breakin’  up  the  clan  ! God 
knows  it  nades  dispersin’  an’  punishin’  too  ! Such  bodies  is 
a burnin’  shame  an’  disgrace  to  the  men  in  them,  an’  they 
befoul  all  Irishmen  and  all  good  Catholics  ! Ye  naden’t  be 
surprised  if  ye  mate  them  yoursel’  ! They’ve  had  ’em  here, 
even,  where  there  live  so  few  from  our  country  I But  Father 
McLaughlin  druv  ’em  out  wid  the  hardest  words  ye  iver 
heard  from  the  lips  of  a clergyman  ! God  prosper  him  for 
that  same  ! An’  since  they  left,  we’ve  had  pace  an’  quiet  in 
town,  wid  no  killin’s  and  batin’ s.” 

It  would  not  do  for  the  listener  to  permit  such  an  oppor- 
tunity to  say  a word  in  favor  of  his  ])articular  friends,  the 
Mollie  Maguires,  to  pass  unimproved.  While  the  sentiments 
expressed  were  his  own,  to  the  letter,  he  must  dissemble  and 
oppose  them.  Therefore  he  replied  : 


48 


STIRRING  UP  A WASP'S  NEST. 


“ Now,  fur  the  life  of  me,  I can’t  see  why  Irish  Catholics 
cannot  have  a dacent,  paceable  society  of  their  own — iC 
there  be  the  laste  touch  of  sacracy  about  it — widout  the 
papers  an’  the  clergy  interloguing  and  opposing  ! Wur  any 
harm  done  by  the  Masons  and  Odd  Fellows,  shure  there 
wouldn’t  be  a word  in  the  public  press  about  it.  An’  what’s 
the  raison  that  this  societ)^  should  be  abused  ?” 

“You  are  all  wrong!  My  experience  goes  agin’  the 
order  I I knows  some  men  who  hev  bin  members,  but  they 
come  out  of  it.  They  saw  enough  ! By  my  sowl,  I’d  as 
soon  go  colloguing  wid  the  devil,  hoof,  horns,  tail  and  all, 
as  wid  the  murtherin’  rascals  1 Harken  to  this,  now ! If 
any  wan  of  the  crew  wur  discharged  from  work  an’  wanted 
fur  to  sake  revinge — which  the  same  is  swate  the  worruld 
over — he  jist  went  to  the  headquarters  of  the  society,  or  to 
the  president,  or  whativer  they  call  him,  which  is  the  head 
official,  an’  made  out  that  it  wur  from  religious  differences 
he  lost  his  place,  or  because  he  wur  an  Irishman  ; and  then 
lots  ud  be  cast,  sure,  an’  two  or  more  of  the  brothers — bad 
cess  to  such  a brotherhood  ! — must  go,  whether  they  would 
or  no,  an’  jist  shoot  down  the  boss  that  had  cut  him  off  I O, 
ye  may  spake  all  yer  soft  words,  an’  shake  )'er  head,  an’  not 
belave  me,  fur  I consider  it  awfully  incredible  myself,  that 
Irishmen  will  do  such  things  ; an’  ye  may  call  me  distraught, 
an’  all  that ; but  I knows  what  I says,  an’  my  advice  is  not  to 
be  afther  defendin’  the  murtherin’,  thavin’  set,  if  ye  want  to 
be  respected  in  this  region  of  country  ! Don’t  ye  bother 
wid  the  Mollie  Maguires  ! ” 

Before  McKenna  had  time  for  a reply,  the  afternoon  pas- 
senger train  came  shrieking  around  an  abrupt  curve,  the 
switchman  seized  his  keys  and  flag,  and  ran  off  to  attend  to 
his  duties  ; and  the  detective,  pocketing  the  Boston  news- 
paper, intending  to  return  it,  retired  to  his  boarding-place. 
The  Pilots  he  thought,  would  prove  a valuable  document  to 
him,  from  the  article  he  had  been  discussing. 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


49 


CHAPTER  V. 

COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

The  succeeding  day  McKenna  returned  to  the  switch- 
tender’s  hut,  and,  after  obtaining  permission  to  retain  the 
Boston  Piloi^  their  suddenly  suspended  conversation  was  re- 
sumed. It  is  unnecessary  to  detail  its  various  points,  but  the 
detective  learned  while  Fitzgibbons  was  a decided  and  out- 
spoken enemy  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  yet  he  was  thor- 
oughly informed  as  to  their  movements  throughout  the  coal 
regions.  This  knowledge  was  secured  by  a careful  study  of 
the  local  newspapers,  and  talking  with  his  neighbors  and 
friends  formerly  holding  membm-ship  in  the  organization.  It 
was  Fitzgibbons’s  idea,  judging  after  several  years’  close  con- 
sideration of  the  matter,  that  the  home-nests,  the  chief  dens, 
of  the  Mollies,  might  be  located  at  Mahan oy  City,  Shenan- 
doah, Shamokin,  Pittston,  and  Wilkesbarre,  and  that  nearly 
all  of  the  smaller  places  had  lodges  of  more  or  less  magni- 
tude. In  one  of  these  principal  strongholds  McKenna  must 
make  his  headquarters,  but  in  which  he  could  only  decide 
after  personal  investigation. 

By  the  time  the  operative  had  remained  a fortnight  or  more 
in  the  mountains,  much  exposure  to  the  weather  and  consid- 
erable out-of-door  exercise  had  wrought  perceptible  changes 
in  his  personal  appearance.  His  apparel  fttted  more  to  his 
satisfaction,  and  a Certain  awkwardness  in  bearing  was  nota- 
bly diminished.  The  cuticle  covering  his  forehead,  cheeks, 
and  hands  was  toughened.  His  complexion  was  darkened, 
while  his  hair  was  lighter  and  longer.  The  unshaven  chin 
had  sprouted  and  grown  a tolerably  heavy  beard,  and  no 
attempt  was  made,  by  trimming,  to  shape  it  handsomely  or 
3 


50 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


becomingly.  His  understanding  of  localities  was  improved 
— and  would  continue  to  improve  through  travel  and  exam- 
ination— and  his  list  of  i)articular  associates  was  rapidly 
growing  larger  and  more  useful. 

At  Tower  City,  McKenna  found  Donahue’s  saloon  a 
pojDular  resort  for  his  countrymen,  and  he  at  once  honored  it 
with  his  presence.  Donahue,  the  i)roprietor,  was  one  day 
entertaining  a number  of  his  friends  living  at  Mahanoy  City, 
when  the  stranger,  “ from  Denver,”  entered  the  room,  and, 
assuming  a reckless  air,  with  the  signs  of  having  indulged  in 
a few  glasses  of  something  more  potent  than  water,  soon 
made  himself  popular  with  those  present.  This  impression 
was  increased  by  the  rich  stories  he  related  and  the  rare 
songs  he  sung.  The  next  day  he  discovered,  in  the  same 
house,  a second  copy  of  the  Boston  newspaper,  before  allud- 
ed to,  containing  an  answer  to  the  slashing  attack  upon  the 
Mollie  Maguires,  The  later  communication  dated  from 
Ivocust  Gap,  about  four  miles  from  Tremont,  and  the  charges 
of  the  earlier  publication  were  all  completely  negatived. 
Donahue’s  attention  was  ingeniously  called  to  the  subject, 
and  he  unsuspectingly  answered  that  he  had  read  the  article, 
having  borrowed  the  journal  from  a neighbor  for  the  purpose. 
In  a short  time  thereafter,  the  two  men  being  alone,  the 
saloon-keeper  said  : 

‘‘  You  must  know  that  I was  a mimber  of  the  order,  for 
two  years  and  upwards,  but  gave  it  up  some  time  since, 
belaving  it  is  not  a good  crowd  fur  any  wan,  havin’  pro})er 
respect  fur  his  good  name,  to  be  connected  wid.  Still,  a 
number  of  excellent  friends  of  mine  are  holdin’  on,  and  will 
not  listen  to  raison,  or  be  persuaded  to  cut  adrift  from  the 
body.  I am  sure  that,  one  day,  they  will  learn  I’m  quite 
right  an’  'they  far  in  the  Avrong.  It  wur  very  well  wid  us 
until  the  fighting  begun  at  Mahanoy  City,  betwixt  the  Burke  , 
and  Duggan  boys,  the  last  showing  themselves  the  more'jj 
powerful  ; but,  faith,  the  effects  of  the  battle  can’t  aisily  be 


COLD  COMFORT  IiV  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


51 


wiped  out,  an’  these  sharp  newspaper  writin’s  are  j^art  of  tlie 
results  of  the  contentions.  1 think  the  order  is  losing 
strength,  in  being  split  up,  inter  smithereens  like,  by  dissen- 
sions an’  broils,  widout  an’  within.” 

Donahue  was  showing  himself  a man  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary intelligence.  After  a judicious  invitation  to  drink,  at 
McKenna’s  cost,  he  continued  ; 

“ Considerin’  the  ladership  hev  fallen  into  wake  an’  bad 
hands,  an’  the  numbers  at  loggerheads,  one  anent  the  other, 
all  the  time — to  say  nothing  about  the  opposition  of  the 
Bishop  an’  the  clargy — it  would  be  just  as  well  if  the  counthry 
wur  clane  rid  of  the  entire  subject  ! ” 

“ Mayhaj)  you’re  more’n  half  right,  Mr.  Donahue,  but  did 
ye  niver  think,  fur  wan  moment,  the  very  order  you  condemn 
may  be  the  manes — wid  other  naded  help — of  bringin’  into 
union  all  the  Irishmen  in  the  coal  ragions,  givin’  them  protec- 
tion an’  securin’  them  their  aqual  rights  ? ” 

Tile  detective  was  paving  the  way  for  future  work,  and 
would  say  nothing  against  the  Mollies. 

“I’m  more’n  doubtful  of  that  same,”  returned  the  tavern- 
keeper,  “such  mane  men  are  at  the  helm  ! They’ll  run  the 
machine  for  their  individual  profit,  an’  use  the  power  of  the 
society  for  evil,  an’  only  evil,  purjioses  ! ” 

“ Fur  that  matther,  this  identical  charge  would  hould  good 
agin  almost  any  kind  of  combination,  sacret  or  not  sacret  ! 
Do  ye  think,  now,  spakin’  out  honest  an’  thrue,  we  should 
lay  aside  a good  implement,  jist  fur  the  simple  an’  only 
raison  we  are  in  fear  of  its  employment,  by  accident  or 
I otherwise,  fur  unlawful  ends  ?” 

1 “ Well,  I see  you  are  friendly  wid  the  boys,”  at  last  said 

Donahue,  “an’  I’ll  urge  no  further  objection  to  them  ! Sure, 
|I  don’t  belave  it  will  be  fur  the  safety  of  my  life  an’  me  house 
Ian’  property  I should,  but  I can’t  help  thinkin’  I have  had 
[plenty  an’  to  spare  of  ’em  ! Don’t  let  on  what  I’ve  been 
lafther  talkin’  to  ye  ! It  might  do  me  harum  ! If  you  wants 


52 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS, 


to  hear  more  about  the  fellows,  I’ll  refer  ye  to  me  paple  at 
Mahanoy  City — 1 hev  father,  mother,  an’  brothers  there — an’ 
in  fact,  if  ye  same  to  want  it,  I can  send  a letther  by  ye  to 
the  ould  gintleman,  who’ll  recave  ye  kindly,  widoiit  doubt. 
I hev  an  idea  ye’ll  do  much  better  beyant  than  here,  an’  per- 
haps get  work  right  off.  Things  is  mighty  dull  an’  quare 
hereabouts  ; there,  they  may  not  be'  quite  so  bad  ! ” 

At  this  tune  the  clergyman  of  the  town  entered  the  saloon 
— he  was  a quaint,  little,  jolly  fat  man,  with  long,  fair  hair, 
small,  blue  eyes,  and  woie  his  gold-bowed  spectacles  as  natu- 
rally as  though  nature  had  handily  framed  his  turn-up  nose  to 
properly  support  them.  Of  course  the  remarks  on  the  particu- 
lar topic,  so  interesting  to  McKenna,  were  at  once  suspended. 
The  priest  was  engaged  in  disposing  of  admission  checks  to 
a church  fair,  to  transpire  the  following  Saturday,  and  hoping 
the  sooner  to  get  rid  of  him,  and  despite  the  utter  impossi- 
bility that  he  would  be  present  at  the  diversion,  McKenna 
purchased  a ticket.  Donahue  did  the  same,  and  the  rever- 
end gentleman  was  quite  happy  when  he  made  his  exit. 
Then  Donahue,  unfortunately,  had  work  to  perform,  but 
promised  to  prepare  the  letter  to  his  father  in  season  for 
McKenna’s  return  from  'Tower  City,  where  he  knew  he  had 
arranged  to  go  that  afternoon,  and  the  detective  set  out 
upon  the  expedition. 

At  Tower  City  the  operative  had  his  first  experience  in  a 
coal-shaft  of  any  great  depth.  Having  previously  descended 
some  steep  slopes,  and  examined  the  machinery  for  with- 
drawing the  anthracite  at  other  collieries,  the  interior  of  an 
extensive  mine  he  had  not  yet  inspected.  While  at  the 
Upper  Mine  of  Messrs.  Rappalie  & Co.,  in  the  vicinity,  an 
outside  boss,  about  looking  after  some  business  below,  in- 
vited McKenna  to  descend  in  his  company. 

It  was  midday,  with  the  sun  shining  brightly,  when  the  two 
men  stepped  upon  the  movable  platform  of  the  elevator, 
inside  the  shaft-house.  In  a few  moments  they  were  settling' 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  TILE  MOUNTAINS. 


53 


swiftly,  but  at  a uniform  rate  of  speed,  down,  down,  as  it 
seemed  to  the  novice  in  such  matters,  even  to  the  founda- 
tions of  the  globe.  For  a brief  period  they  were  in  total 
darkness,  and  a sensation,  as  of  seasickness,  came  over  him. 
Still  he  clung  to  his  support  and  the  uncomfortable  feeling 
soon  left  him.  As  the  lower  regions  were  reached,  the 
traveler  thought  he  would  be  far  more  content  if  again 
breathing  the  clear  ether  above.  The  system  experienced 
absolute  relief  when  the  motion  ceased,  and  the  solid  bottom 
of  the  shaft  was  touched.  But  here  it  was  like  entering  a 
new  sphere.  There  was  dark  above,  below,  and  all  around, 
only  here  and  there  relieved  by  dim  little  stars,  which  were 
continually  dodging  downward,  sidewise,  and  upward,  as 
though  held  by  an  unsteady  hand.  As  his  eyes  acquired 
familiarity  with  the  situation,  he  saw  that  to  each  one  of 
these  erratic  satellites  was  attached  the  body  of  a living  man 
— in  fact,  they  were  only  diminutive  lamps  which  the  miners 
and  their  helpers  wore  above  the  visors  of  their  hats  to  light 
them  in  their  labors.  The  general  effect  produced  in  the 
sombre  recesses  of  the  excavation,  and  the  strange  and  gro- 
tesque, as  well  as  picturesque,  shadows  reflected  back  from 
the  men’s  figures  upon  the  walls  and  buttresses  and  floors, 
all  defy  description,  and  must  be  seen  to  be  understood.  As 
far  as  the  eye  was  able  to  penetrate,  in  every  direction, 
almost,  the  nodding  demon  with  the  single,  blazing  orb,  like 
a star,  in  the  forehead,  and  bearing  glistening  pick  and  bar, 
and  drill  and  spade,  was  industriously  working  away  at  the 
breast,  tearing  out  the  black  diamonds,  making  more  pillars, 
and  piercing  further  into  the  lode.  Wandering  from  point  to 
]Doint  in  pursuit  of  his  errand,  the  boss  kept  bn,  and  McKen- 
na followed.  In  one  place  he  was  startled  and  nearly  deaf- 
ened by  the,  to  him,  unexpected  explosion  of  a blast,  close 
to  his  ear,  as  he  thought,  but  really  at  quite  a safe  distance. 
He  involuntarily  jumped  aside,  expecting  that  he  had  been 
hit,  but  in  a moment  recovered  his  equanimity,  seeing  he  was 


54 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


not  injured.  They  were  met  on  every  side  by  a succession 
of  heavy  supports  and  gaping  caverns,  the  former  serving  as 
props  for  the  rocky  roof,  preventing  the  falling  in  of  the  ground 
resting  above,  and  the  latter  leading  to  still  other  channels 
and  gangways  from  which  coal  was  being  brought.  The  air 
seemed  heavy-laden,  damp,  and  unhealthy,  and  the  path  pur- 
sued, in  many  places,  passed  through  lakelets  of  black  water 
reaching  sometimes  above  the  ankles.  All  was  bustle  and 
activity  with  that  army  of  underground  toilers,  drilling,  blast- 
ing, loading,  tunneling,  tamjung  down  blasts,  laying  trains, 
breaking  away  coal  and  running  it  down  chutes  to  the  floors, 
hea})ing  it  u})on  small  trucks,  which  in  turn  transj)orted  it  to 
the  base  of  the  entering  shaft,  whence  it  was  elevated  by 
steam  power  to  the  breaker,  high  above  ground.  Over  all 
were  heard  the  sounds  of  the  pumps,  clangor  of  chains,  and 
rattling  of  picks,  making  harsh  and  jagged  music,  to  the 
strains  of  which  the  work  advanced.  It  was  no  pleasant 
place  to  remain  in,  especially  as  a looker-on,  and  McKenna 
was  not  illy  pleased  when  the  boss,  taking  advantage  of  the 
ascent  of  a loaded  elevator,  asked  him  to  return  to  the  region 
of  daylight.  The  sensation  experienced  upon  again  encoun- 
tering the  sunshine  was  painfully  peculiar,  the  bright  blaze 
almost  blinding  him  during  the  first  few  moments  of  the 
change.  But  presently  the  retina  was  brought  in  conformity 
with  the  surroundings,  and  eyesight  was  fully  restored. 

The  breaker  in  which  the  coal  is  crushed,  sorted,  and  pre- 
pared for  use.  in  its  different  sizes,  is  a long,  dark,  high  and 
sloping-roofed  structure,  generally  of  wood,  to  the  uttermost 
peak  of  which,  almost,  the  anthracite,  in  lumps  weighing 
ten,  one  hundred,  and  three  hundred  pounds,  is  raised  by  the 
steam  elevator — that  is  in  shaft-mining — and  there  emptied, 
or  dumped  into  a huge  hopper,  or  funnel,  leading  direct  to 
the  crushing  machinery.  This  consists  of  two  immensely 
large  and  heavy  iron  cylinders,  provided  with  massive  teeth 
which,  when  the  rollers  revolve,  munch  the  coal  into  larger 


They  were  met  on  ei'ery  side  by  a siiccession  of  heavy  supports  and  gaping'  caverns 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


55 


and  smaller  fragments,  producing  a crunching,  grating  sound, 
and  finally  casting  it  into  a channel  beneath  that  conveys  it 
to  a succession  of  screens,  through  which  it  is  run,  separating 
the  coarser  from  the  finer  sizes.  Under  these  immense 
sieves  come  other  sluices,  still  on  an  incline,  and,  after  having 
the  slate  abstracted  by  the  hands  of  a gang  of  boys,  engaged 
for  the  purpose,  the  chestnut,  range,  stove,  little  egg,  large 
egg,  and  steamboat  coal  glides  to  the  storehouse  by  the  rail- 
way track,  or,  if  need  be,  direct  to  the  cars  in  which  it  is 
transported  to  market. 

.The  culm — or  refuse  coal,  slate,  and  waste — is  carried  off 
and  piled  in  high  embankments,  by  man  and  mule  power. 

It  is  dumped  at  the  outer  end  of  the  temporary  track,  much 
after  the  style  of  a car-load  , of  dirt  in  building  a grade  for  a 
railway.  These  residue  heaps  dot  the  coal  regions,  as  dark 
notes  of  admiration,  showing  to  the  traveler  the  great 
amount  of  riches  from  which  they  have  been  eliminated  and 
how  vast  the  aggregate  of  wealth  yet  remaining  in  the  bosom 
of  iwoMfic  mother  earth. 

Returning  to  his  boarding-place,  the  traveler  secured 
Donahue’s  letter  to  his  father,  and  about  the  middle  of  the 
ensuing  day  took  stage,  with  three  other  gentlemen,  for 
Minersville,  some  thirteen  miles  distant,  over  the  mountain 
and  near  Pottsville.  . Ordinarily  but  a couple  of  hours  would 
be  consumed  in  making  the  trip,  but  the  occupants  of  the 
stage  were  no  ordinary  people  and  were  not  fated  to  make 
an  ordinary  journey.  They  had  not  been  long  out  when  the 
sun  was  obscured  by  huge,  lead-colored  clouds,  and  across 
the  heavens  drifted  vapory  masses  of  a more  fleecy  character. 
Then  a heavy  snow-storm  set  in,  adding  to  the  prevailing  ^ 
discomfort  and  making  the  progress  of  the  mule  team 
more  painfully  slow.  The  passengers,  none  of  whom  knew 
McKenna,  and  none  of  whom  were  personally  known  to  him, 
made  light  of  their  troubles  and  gave  jokes  plentifully  and 
cheerfully  upon  the  snow,  the  driver  and  his  rig,  and  con- 


56  COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


cerning  one  another.  It  was  true  the  conveyance  and  its 
propellers  and  captain  sadly  needed  repairs,  the  Jehu  being 
•in  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf  of  his  age,  having  but  one  leg  to 
stand  upon — and  that  troubled  with  rheumatism — while  the 
mules  were  spavined  and  lame,  the  vehicle  shattered  in 
cover  and  framework,  and  uneasy  and  creaking  in  its  running 
gear,  not  to  speak  of  the  harness,  which  seemed  made  of 
odds  and  ends,  selected  from  the  refuse  of  some  army  col- 
lection, idle  since  the  close  of  the  war.  Still,  up  hill  and 
down  grade,  the  animals  managed  to  move  at  a little  better 
than  a snail’s  pace. 

Gradually  the  hillsides  wrapped  a winding-sheet  of  snow 
around  them,  as  though  taking  eternal  farewell  of  earth,  and 
the  stunted  pine  and  hemlock  and  mountain  ash  took  on  a 
similarly  white  and  beautiful  mantle.  The  highway,  never 
too  clearly  marked,  was  to  the  eye  of  a stranger  entirely  lost 
sight  of,  and  nothing  but  an  educated  sense  or  instinct  on 
the  part  of  driver  and  beasts  could  prevent  the  stage  and  its 
freight  from  foundering  by  the  wayside,  or  dashing  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  off  the  brink,of  one  of  the  numerous  rocky 
precipices,  among  and  around  which,  in  many  a serpentine  coil, 
wound  the  road  they  were  trying  to  follow.  Once,  when  at 
its  very  verge,  the  driver  saw  a yawning  gulf  just  before  him. 
He  was  barely  in  time  to  quickly  draw  i^  the-  reins,  thus  sav- 
ing himself  and  his  passengers  from  certain  destruction. 
But  the  worst  was  not  yet  over.  The  mules  would  not 
back,  do  all  their  manager  could,  and  the  travelers  were 
forced  to  alight,  put  their  shoulders  to  the  wheels,  and 
extricate  the  vehicle  without  the  aid  of  the  team.  This 
consumed  time,  and  it  was  nearly  dusk  before  the  wagon 
was  once  more  in  the  road  and  all  mounted,  and  ready  to 
proceed. 

“ Pat.  McCarthy,  an  old  friend  of  mine  down  on  Long 
Island,  would  say,”  remarked 'McKenna,  while  pushing  at  a 
wheel  with  all  his  strength,  “ that  this  was  almost  aqual  to 


COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS.  57 

workin’  your  passage  on  the  canal — drivin’  the  horse  and 
walkin’  on  the  tow-path  ! ” 

This  conceit  restored  good  humor,  and  the  unsteady  coach  ' 
resumed  its  journey.  Before  darkness  fully  closed  in  the 
scene  the  most  dangerous  portion  of  the  route  was  traversed, 
and  thenceforward,  the  course  sloping  downward,  the  mules 
jogged  on  at  a more  lively  pace,  the  travelers  reaching  Mi- 
nersville  by  nine  o’clock  at  night,  weary,  sleepy,  and  as  one 
of  the  number  truly  said,  “ as  sharp  set  for  supper  as  a gang 
of  ravenous  wolves.”  When  they  alighted,  the  snow  still 
descended,  and  the  prospect  seemed  good  for  fine  sleighing 
on  the  morrow  over  all  the  level  country. 

Entering  the  principal  hotel,  McKenna  judged  that  his 
dress  and  presence  were  again  a bar  to  his  introduction* to 
respectable  society.  The  gracious  and  affable  landlord — 
gracious  and  affable  to  all  excepting  the  roughly  clad  gentle- 
man from  Ireland — was  with  difficulty  persuaded  to  allow 
him  to  remain  in  the  house.  But  finally  he  did  consent, 
and  under  its  proper  heading  for  the  seventeenth  of  Novem- 
ber, 1873,  fhe  hotel  register,  the  detectiv^ inscribed  the 
following  ; 

Jas.  McKenna^  Denver.,  Colorado  Terl^ 

The  hotel-keeper  \yason  the  lookout  for  disreputable  char- 
acters, as  he  should  be,  but  his  humanity,  added  to  the  pro- 
tests of  the  detective’s  late  traveling  companions,  would  not 
consent  to  his  turning  a persoi>  out  in  the  snow,  possibly  to 
freeze  to  death,  even  though  his  clothing  were  poor  and  his 
face,  hair,  beard,  and  general  appearance  the  opposite  of 
prepossessing.  A five  dollar  note,  which  the  stranger  had 
changed  at  the  bar,  while  paying  for  a hot  toddy  for  himself 
and  the  stage  passengers — not  forgetting  the  driver — after 
the  bill  had  been  closely  scrutinized  and  pronounced  not 
counterfeit,  exerted  its  influence  in  determining  the  matter, 
and  prompted  the  innkeeper  to  be  generous,  even  though 


58  COLD  COMFORT  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


there  was  a remote  chance  that  his  business  might  suffer 
thereby.  The  young  man,  it  was  decided,  should  have  food 
for  his  stomach  and  a place  to  sleep  in.  The  supper  was 
spread  on  a barrel-head,  in  the  cold,  dreary  slab  kitchen,  at 
the  rear  of  the  cook-room  proj)er,  through  the  wide  chinks 
in  the  walls  of  which  the  keen  blast  whistled  mournfully,  and 
the  snow-tlakes  stole  in  with  a whisk  and  a whirl,  painting 
delicate  and  curiously  enameled  pictures  on  the  greasy  floor. 
His  chair  was  like  that  upon  which  the  late  James  Gordon 
Bennett,  senior,  sat,  when  writing  his  leading  editorials  for 
the  embryo  New  York  Herald — an  inverted  and  empty  nail 
keg — but  the  food  was  warm  and  palatable,  and  he  ate  it  in 
silence,  as  he  well  knew  that  grumbling  would  result  in  no 
good.  He  was,  for  the  occasion,  a wandering  refugee,  and 
must  necessarily  put  up  with  such  treatment  as  those  in  his 
condition  usually  receive  from  the  world’s  people.  He 
could  plainly  hear  the  tantalizing  clatter  of  crockery,  inhale 
the  savory  odor  arising  from  epicurean  dishes,  and  listen  to 
the  conversation  of  other  and  more  favored  guests,  coming 
from  the  com^rtable,  well-lighted  dining-hall,  when  the  door 
chanced  to  be  open,  and  that  was  all.  Later  at  night  he 
climbed  a rough  ladder,  nearly  at  the  top  of  the  house,  he 
believed,  found  his  loft,  with  its  straw  bed  and  blankets,  and 
an  old  saddle  for  a pillow.  Extinguishing  his  candle,  he 
rolled  himself,  full  dressed  as  he  was,  in  his  coverings,  and 
soon  fell  asleep.  Not  all  the  insects  in  the  place,  nor  the 
rats  that  ran  over  him,  nor  the  cats  that  made  night  hid- 
eous with  their  wailings  and  spittings,  could,  for  more  than  a 
few  moments  at  a stretch,  banish  sleep  from  McKenna’s 
eyelids. 


POTTSVILLh  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HO  USE.  S9 


. CHAPTER  VI. 

POTTSVILLE  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HOUSE. 

The  detective,  after  making  a casual  inspection  of  the 
place,  during  the  following  day,  was  in  many  respects  well 
suited  with  it.  Usually  carrying  on  considerable  trade,  he 
found  all  the  people  of  the  town  complaining  of  dull  times, 
even  the  collieries  employing  but  few  hands.  The  blast-fur- 
naces were  in  the  same  category.  Wading  through  the  snow, 
during  his  walks  about  the  streets,  he  chanced  upon  some 
men  whose  faces  were  not  new  to  his  sight,  having  previously 
encountered  them  at  Schuylkillhaven,  and  he  naturally  re- 
sumed the  intercourse  there  begun.  Nothing  of  particular 
importance  resulted,  however,  excepting  wet  feet  and  dread 
of  impending  rheumatisms  and  neuralgias. 

He  at  once  changed  his  quarters  from  the  hotel  to  a 
private  boarding-house,  where  the  style  of  living  was  less 
pretentious,  the  price  charged  patrons  not  nearly  so  exhaust- 
ive of  his  finances — and  yet  the  accommodations,  as  far  as 
this  particular  boarder  was  concerned,  were  considerably 
more  comfortable.  Beside,  he  was  quite  at  home,  and  in  a 
better  position  for  work.  And  here  were  many  acquain- 
tances to  form. 

While  insinuating  himself  into  a new  to-wn,  or  community, 
McKenna  properly  adopted  widely  differing  devices,  but  an 
extended  experience  instructed  him  that  the  best  course  to 
pursue,  in  any  given  case  of  the  sort,  was  the  one  appearing 
the  most  natural.  It  was  a cardinal  principle,  impressed 
upon  his  mind,  never  to  make  open  and  direct  inquiries  re- 
garding people  and  things  of  which  he  was  really  in  search 
— a place  for  permanent  employment  was,  as  the  reader  has 


6o  POTTSVILLE  AND  THE  S/IERIDAN  HOUSE. 


all  along  understood,  merely  a cover  for  his  actual  purpose 
in  visiting  the  coal  country.  In  fact,  unless  it  brought  him 
in  close  contact  with  the  right  men,  and  revealed  to  him 
hidden  things,  in  no  other  way  attainable,  a chance  for  him- 
self to  dig  in  the  mines  might,  for  the  present,  be  deferred. 
It  would  be  well,  he  believed,  after  a while,  to  divert  atten- 
tion from  his  real  occupation.  But  to  look  up  a job  was  a 
good  excuse  for  much  traveling,  over  a large  field,  with  the 
topography  of  which  he  was  required  to  become  accurately 
familiar.  Private  objects  he  left  to  be  worked  out  in  a pri- 
vate way,  occasionally  giving  them  a slight  and  unremarked 
start,  or  direction,  as  he  went  from  place  to  place. 

Night  was  his  favorite  time  for  accomplishing  progress. 
Then  his  friends  were  generally  relieved  from  labor  and 
gathered. where  they  could  be  reached.  He  sauntered  un- 
concernedly about,  after  darkness  had  set  in,  and  if  he  heard 
a row,  or  “bit  of  a shindy”  going  on  in  a drinking  place, 
would  enter  and  make  himself  in  some  manner  companion- 
able with  the  persons  within — excepting  they  chanced  to 
be  of  the  character  of  Mr.  Staub,  the  portly  landlord  at  Port 
Clinton,  w'ho  proved  so  inhospitable,  mistaking  the  agent 
for  a thief — and  in  that  event  he  usually  caused  himself  to 
become  invisible  as  rapidl}^  as  possible.  With  an  assump- 
tion of  unlimited  assurance,  and  pretending  to  be  more  than 
half  way  under  the  intiuence  of  liquor,  other  conditions 
being  favorable,  he  broke  out  with  such  a roaring,  rollicking 
ditty  as  he  supposed  might  please  those  about  him,  or,  if  he 
felt  in  the  mood,  began  a spirited  Irish  jig,  performed  with 
much  agility  and  many  comical  contortions  of  countenance 
and  body,  to  the  measure  of  no  music  at  all,  excepting  he 
chose  to  whistle  a tune  meanwhile.  In  the  course  of  a little 
time,  the  out-door  training,  and  the  exercise  in  singing  and 
dancing,  made  him  quite  an  expert,  and  his  fame  preceded 
him  from  Schuylkillhaven  to  Summit,  and,  as  he  learned  from 
his  companions,  had  journeyed  even  as  far  as  Pottsville.  At 


POTTS F/LLE  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HOUSE.  6 1 


any  rate,  he  never  failed,  with  those  in  whose  company  he 
cared,  for  the  purposes  of  his  undertaking,  to  be  received,  in 
immediately  placing  himself  upon  a secure  and  friendly  foot- 
ing. The  climax  of  miner’s  friendship  was  usually  reached 
by  asking  the  persons  present  to  come  to  the  bar  and  indulge 
in  something  to  drink,  if  it  was  to  be  had,  at  his  expense  ; 
otherwise,  the  invitation  emanated  from  some  one  of  the 
company  and  included  the  stranger.  Either'  result  was 
equally  satisfactory. 

If  he  happened,  as  he  sometimes  would,  to  fall  in  with 
rogues — indeed  his  search  was  for  and  among  this  class — he 
had  prepared  a device  and  history  calculated  quickly  to  attract 
their  sympathies  and  give  him  a warm  place  in  their  circle. 

When  in  the  presence  of  sober,  civil,  and  sedate  people-  - • 
which  was  occasionally  the  case — the  operative  tried  another 
and  different  scheme,  perhaps  relating  a cheerful  ghost-story, 
or  giving  one  or  more  of  the  many  pathetic,  patriotic,  or  sen- 
timental ballads,  of  which  he  had  quite  a collection  stored 
away  in  his  brain  to  be  expended  upon  such  associates.  In 
almost  any  company  of  his  own  countrymen  he  was  certain 
of  finding  hearty  welcome,  and,  as  it  was  among  Irishmen 
he  expected  to  labor,  he  scarcely  ever  essayed  entrance  to 
the  homes  of  persons  af  other  nationalities.  The  time  might 
come,  he  supposed,  should  he  succeed  in  his  labors,  when  the 
doors  of  most  respectable  families  from  his  native  land,  even, 
would  be  closed  against  him — but,  at  the  end,  he.  believed  he 
would  he  perfectly  justified  in  the  course  he  was  pursuing. 

The  storm,  in  the  opening  of  which  he  entered  Minersville, 
continued,  snow  falling  almost  incessantly  'during  three  or 
four  days,  and  the  operative  could  not  meanwhile  accom- 
plish much  in  the  streets.  As  soon  as  the  sun  came  out 
again,  and  the  paths  and  roads  were  broken  over  the  moun- 
tains, he  visited  Miner’s  Hill,  two  miles  away,  returned  to 
Minersville,  and  then  took  the  horse  car  for  Pottsville.  His 
first  work  in  that  city  was  to  secure  a cheap  and  decently 


62  rorrsviLLE  and  the  she  did  an  house. 


comfortable  boarding-place,  which  he  found  at  the  residence 
of  Mrs.  O’ Regan,  in  East  Norwegian  Street.  The  widow 
kept  house  neatly,  beside  a bottle  of  poteen,  from  which, 
without  paying  license,  she  .sold  an  occasional  droi>. 

A visitor’s  impressions  of  Eottsville,  when  first  beholding 
its  spires  of  churches  and  evidences  of  industry  and  thrift, 
fi-om  the  heights  above,  cannot  well  be  other  than  pleasing. 
The  scenery  encompassing  the  town  is  bold  and  rugged,  and 
the  descent  by  car  to  the  Schuylkill,  and  Norwegian  Creek, 
on  whose  high  banks  it  is  lodged,  rapid  and  inspiring ; and 
once  having  arrived  in  its  handsomely-built  streets,  to  one 
unaccustomed  to  see  cities  perched  upon  steep  mountain- 
sides, the  sight  is  well  calculated  to  evolve  surprise. 
Having  some  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  there  is  in  it 
much  enlightenment  and  great  wealth.  Abundantly  provided 
with  handsome  and  elegant  churches  and  school-houses, 
imposing  business  structures  and  beautiful  residences,  Potts- 
ville  enjoys  an  enviable  reputation  as  a healthful  and  pleas- 
ant j)lace  for  dimmer  residence.  One  especial  point  of  interest 
is  the  costly  and  artistic  monument  to  Henry  Clay.  It  is  of 
])ure  white  marble,  in  the  shape  of  a fluted  column,  rising  from 
a massive  square  pedestal,  and  surmounted  by  a full-length 
statue  of  the  great  Defender.  The  hotels — among  which 
stand  pre-eminent  Pennsylvania  Hall  and  the  Exchange — are 
unsurpassed  in  the  State.  There  is  a large  and  commodious 
court-house,  and  a county  jail  rivaling  in  size  and  com- 
pleteness of  officers  and  appointments  some  of  the  larger 
State  penitentaries.  It  also  has  an  Academy  of  Music,  in 
which  operatic  and  theatrical  entertainments  are  given  by 
traveling  troupes. 

Pottsville  is  the  concentrating  point  for  an  extended 
radius  of  rich  mining  country,  and  the  depot  of  supplies  for 
an  equally  wide  circle. 

The  surroundings  in  this  part  of  Schuylkill  County  are, 
some  of  them,  deserving  of  national  celebrity.  Among  these 


POTTSVILLE  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HOUSE.  63 


is  Mount  Carbon,  towering  in  height,  broad,  black,  gloomy 
and  stupendous ; and,  at  its  base,  stand  the  Mansion  House 
— a very  agreeable  place  of  resort — and  a number  of  fashiona- 
ble residences.  Further  away  is  a bit  of  natural  landscape, 
pronounced  one  of  the  most  striking  in  the  country.  It  is 

Tumbling  Run  Dam/’  which  has  been  painted  by  several 
master  hands,  a.nd,  in  picturesqueness  and  sublimity,  is 
worthy  the  drawing  many  times  more.  Here  the  waters  of 
the  stream,  cut  across  by  a heavy  obstruction  of  sturdy  rock, 
are  turned  abruptly  aside,  and  rush,  in  a foaming,  misty  tor- 
rent, down,  down,  a steep  side  descent,  torn  and  divided 
into  innumerable  smaller  cascades,  again  uniting  with  the 
still,  broad  expanse  below.  Tall  pines,  stunted  cedars,  and 
noble  oaks  border  the  river  on  either  shore,  and,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  overhanging  barrier,  are  piled,  in  artistic 
confusion,  great  heaps  of  sharp  and  jagged  rocks,  seemingly 
rent  from-adjacent  peaks  by  giant  hands. 

To  change  the  subject  from  the  sublime  to  the  real  and 
practical : 

Among  the  occupants  of  Mrs.  O’Regan’s  house  was  a 
young  man  niimed  Jennings,  apparently  possessing  more 
than  ordinary  intelligence,  and,  the  afternoon  of  McKenna’s 
arrival,  knowing  he  was  a stranger,  this  sociable  person  pro- 
posed to  show  his  new-found  friend  the  sights  to  be  seen  in 
the  city.  McKenna  accepted  the  offer,  and  the  two  started 
out,  not  intending  to  be  long  absent.  During  the  visits 
made  tO  different  places,  of  course  the  saloons  were  not 
omitted,  and  both  of  the  men  drank  somewhat,  but  no  more 
them  to  them  seemed  respectable  and  companionable-  The 
operative  was  introduced  by  Jennings  to  a number  of  his 
intimate  associates  and  friends,  but  met  none  of  those  with 
whom  he  was  anxious  to  open  communication.  “ 

As  they  were  on  Center  Street,  passing  quietly  along,  the 
stranger  read  a sign  over  the  door  of  a liquor  store,  or 
tavern,  “ Pat.  Dormer,”  and  said  : 


64  rOTTSVILLE  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HOUSE. 

“ T.et’s  go  in  here  ! ” 

“ Its  no  place  for  us,”  answered  Jennings.  “ You  are  not 
of  ‘ the  stuff,’  I guess  ! At  least,  1 know  / am  not ! ” 

“ ‘The  stuff ! ’ That  is  it  ye  mane  by  ‘ the  stuff’  ? ” 

“ Come  away,  across  the  street,  and  I’ll  tell  you  ! Its 
not  the  safe  or  proper  thing  to  be  conversing  of  such  things 
so  near  this  particular  house  ! ” 

So  saying,  Jennings  led  the  way  to  another  corner,  where 
the  young  men  stopped,  well  out  of  the  sweep  of  the  wind,  in 
the  lee  of  a large  building,  and  the  conversation  was  at  once 
resumed  by  Jennings  ; 

“Dormer  is  a captain 

“ Captain  of  a militia  company,  is  it  ye  mane  ? ” 

“ No  ! That’s  not  it ! I believe  that  you  are  a good  sort 
of  a fellow,  and  I think  I may  venture  to  warn  you — yet  I 
want  you  to  promise  me  never  to  repeat  what  I say.  It 
might  lead  to  trouble  ! ” 

“Av  coorse.  I’ll  be  as  silent  as  the  catacombs  of  Agypt ! 
Niver  you  fear  Jim  McKenna  fur  that,  sure  ! ” 

“ You  must  understand,  then,  that  Pat  Dormer  is  a cap- 
tain of  the  Sleej^ers  ! ” 

“ One  of  the  notorious  sivin,  we  rade  about,  is  he?  In- 
dade,  an’  I supposed' they  were  all  kilt  entirely,  more’n  thir- 
teen hundred  years  ago  ! ” 

“No!  Not  one  of  that  number,  but  of  the  great  secret 
order,  here  called  the  Sleepers  ! ” 

“An’  phat  are  the  Slapers?  Plaze  to  explain  it — or  is  it 
another  conunckum  you  are  after  axin’  me?” 

“The  Sleepers  are  the  Mollie  Maguires  I There’s  a heap 
of  them  in  this  district,  and  Dormer  is,  or  was,  an  officer 
high  in  authority  in  the  organization.  You’ve  certainly  heard 
of  the  society  ? ” 

“ Sure,  an’  I hev  heard  much  about  them  in  the  ould  coim- 
thry  ! Put  nothing  till  America  ! Are  you  sure  they’ve  ever 
crossed  the  say  ? ” 


P0T7'SVILLE  AND  THE  SHERIDAN  HOUSE.  65 


“They  have,  and  there  are  thousands  of  them  in  this  and 
some  adjoining  counties.  If  you  stop  here  awhile  you’ll  read 
about  some  of  their  work  ! They  do  not  rest  long  without 
doing  something  in  the  way  of  murder  or  outrage  ! ” 

The  young  man  then  proceeded,  with  some  particularity, 
to  relate  to  his  apparently  astonished  listener  many  of  the 
stories  he  had  gathered  regarding  the  Mollie  Maguires,  with 
an  outline  of  their  known  aims  and  objects.  His  words  do 
not  call  for  repetition  here,  as  they  allude  to  things  already 
within  the  reader’s  knowledge.  Jennings,  in  conclusion,  re- 
marked : 

“ Of  course  / do  not  belong  to  the  order — would  not  if  I 
could,  and  could  not  if  I would — as  I am  American  born 
and  both  of  my  parents  not  from  Ireland.  But  there  are  any 
number  of  them  in  the  neighborhood.  Dormer  is  a sort  of 
King  Bee  among  the  brethren,  and  his  house  their  rendez- 
vous when  in  the  city.  Dormer  tilled  the  office  of  County 
Commissioner  for  some  six  years  in  all,  but  was  defeated  at 
the  last  election,  through  the  interference  of  the  society, 
which,  for  some  reason,  during  a short  time  was  opposed  to 
him,  but  I hear  it  talked  that  he  is  in  its  good  graces  again, 
ready  once  more  to  run  for  office,  should  occasion  offer.  He 
was  once  quite  a respectable  man,  but  place  and  a long  lease 
of  power,  and  bad  liquor  taken  by  wholesale,  have  brought 
him  to  moral  and  almost  physical  ruin.  One  great  fault 
that  the  order  found  with  him  was  that  he  had  affiliated  with 
some  other  secret  associations  popular  among  Protestants. 
He  was,  and  is  now,  comparatively,  a very  powerful  man. 
Standing  six  feet  four  inches  in  his  stockings,  and  pulling  the 
beam  at  two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds,  he  is  considered  a 
dangerous  individual  to  tami)er  with  ! ” 

“ As  my  countrywomen  are  often  heard  to  remark,  ‘ what 
a handsome  corpse  he  would  make,  to  be  sure  ! ’ What  do 
Dormer  look  like,  in  other  regards  ? ” 

“His  hair  is  gray,  eyes  light  hazel,  and  he  has  a counte- 


66 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


nance,  which,  from  its  mildness  of  expression,  can  be  taken 
as  no  index  to  his  inward  character,  for  he  is  cruel  and 
bloodthirsty,  esi)ecially  when  in  his  cups.  He  calls  his  hotel 
the  Sheridan  House — you  see  that  it  is  popular.  There  are 
many  people  constantly  going  in  and  coming  out  ! But  such 
as  you  and  1 do  not  belong  there  ! ” 

The  young  man  again  cautioned  McKenna  to  say  nothing 
of  his  revelations,  and,  after  ])romising  compliance,  they  en- 
tered a saloon,  had  some  refreshments,  and  then  went  home 
in  time  for  supper. 

The  detective  could  not  retire  to  his  bed  that  night  with- 
out at  least  attempting  to  see  the  man  he  had  heard  so  much 
about.  He  might  prove  the  very  person  he  desired  to  meet. 
Therefore,  excusing  himself  by  saying  he  needed  to  make 
some  purchases  up  town,  he  procured  a lamp,  went  to  his 
bedroom,  carefully  examined  his  revolver,  placed  it  conve- 
nient in  his  hip  pocket,  and  sallied  forth.  Making  sure, 
after  walking  some  distance,  that  Jennings  was  not  in  the 
vicinity,  he  soon  reached  Dormer’s  saloon. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIE  MAGUIRES.  “ 

I 

For  the  purpose  of  properly  carrying  out  the  role  of  a | 
truthful  historian  of  actual  occurrences,  we  will  change  the  jl 
scene,  for  a short  season,  and,  leaving  McKenna  to  seek  rl 
adventure  with  Pat  Dormer  and  his  associates,  in  Potts-  | 
ville,  take  a view  of  acts  performed  in  the  same  portion  of  fi 
the  country,  several  years  anterior  to  the  time  heretofore  l| 
alluded  to.  ' 


Durnu')  calls  his  hotel  the-'Shernian  J/ouse 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  6/ 


The  Mollie  Maguires  were  ni^re  than  usually  active  and 
bloodthirsty  in  1865.  On  the  25th  of  August  of  that  year, 
David  Muhr,  superintendent  of  a colliery,  was  killed  in  Fos  - 
ter township.  He  was  shot  on  the  public  highway,  in  the 
broad  light  of  day,  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  house  he 
was  emidoyed  in,  and  where  a large  'number  of  men  were 
congregated,  all  of  whom  heard  the  report  of  firearms,  and 
many  being  involuntary  witnesses  of  the  transaction.  While 
this  was  the  fact,  no  reliable  testimoii)^  could  be  elicited  by 
the  Commonwealth,  when  the  matter  was  under  investiga- 
tion, fixing  the  commission  of  the  butchery  upon  any  sus- 
pected party.  Nobody  knew  the  men,  where  they  had  come 
from,  or  where  they  had  flown  to.  It  was  reported  that  sig- 
nals had  been  seen  burning  that  night  on  the  hills,  soon  after 
the  occurrence,  and  it  was  surmised  they  were  built  by  con- 
federates, to  aid  the  principals  in  the  murder  to  make  their 
way  to  safety.  « 

Again,  on  the  tenth  of  January,  t866,  Mr.  Henry  H. 
Dunne,  a well-known  citizen  of  Pottsville,  and  superintend- 
ent of  one  of  the  largest  coal-mining  corporations  in  all  that 
circuit  of  country,  was  murdered  on  the  turnpike,  within 
two  miles  of  the  city,  while  riding  home  in  his  carriage,  from 
a visit  to  a colliery  over  which  he  had  control.  Even  up 
to  the  present  date,  no  arrests  have  been  made,  nor  has  any 
information  presented  itself  which  promises  to  lead  to  the 
apprehension  of  the  assassins.  That  they  killed  Mr.  Dunne 
through  complicity  in  some  labor  troubles  was  always  the 
prevailing  belief. 

To  continue  the  barbarous  record,  on  Saturday,  the  seven- 
teenth of  October,  1868,  Alexander  Rae,  another  mining 
superintendent,  was  killed  on  the  wagon  road,  near  Centralia, 
in  the  townshi[)  of  Conyngham,  Columbia  County.  Several 
persons  were  distrusted,  and  a number  arrested,  charged 
with  the  crime,  and  a strong  chain  of  circumstantial  evidence 
made  out  by  the  Commonwealth  against  them.  The  high- 


68 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


way  on  which  the  event  occurred  was  that  passing  from 
Centralia  to  Mt.  Carmel,  in  Northumberland  County,  and 
the  exact  location  of  the  tragedy  at  a point  distant  about  a 
mile  and  a half  from  the  latter  place,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  a spring  where,  for  the  convenience  of  travelers,  there 
had  been  erected  a nide  watering-trough,  so  that  men,  as 
well  as  animals,  might  quench  their  thirst.  Mr.  Rae  was 
riding  in  his  buggy,  at  half-past  nine  o’clock  in  the  morning, 
coming  from  his  home,  and  going  in  the  direction  of  the  Coal 
Ridge  Im})rovement  Company’s  colliery.  He  was  a peace- 
able, inoffensive,  but  naturally  fearless  man,  entirely  un- 
armed, and  only  intent,  at  the  time,  on  performing  his  duty 
to  his  employers  in  the  pursuit  of  his  regular  calling.  The 
fatal  shots  once  discharged  by  the  assassins,  from  their  am- 
bush near  the  road,  the  actors  in  the  drama,  without  waiting 
to  learn  the  result  of  their  bloody  work,  fled  precipitately  to 
thei|;  refuge  in  the  mountains,  and  for  a long  time  entirely 
avoided  capture,  or  even  the  shadow  of  suspicion.  The  life- 
less remains  of  Mr.  Rae  were  discovered,  Sunday  morning, 
pierced  by  six  bullets,  and  resting  near  the  spot  where  the 
attack  had  been  made.  As  a natural  consequence  of  such 
an  outrage,  the  utmost  indignation  pervaded  the  community 
in  which  the  victim  had  for  years  been  a widely-known  and 
much-respected  resident.  The  particulars,  as  far  as  they 
were  learned,  were  repeated  from  person  to  person,  and  the 
news  spread  like  wildfire  to  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  coal 
country.  Mr.  Rae  left  an  estimable  widow  and  six  children 
to  mourn  his  death.  John  Duffy,  of  Mahanoy  City,  Schuyl- 
kill County,  Michael  Prior,  of  Branchdale,  Thomas  Donahue, 
of  Ashland,  both  in  the  same  county,  and  Pat  Hester,  of 
Mt.  Carmel  township,  Northumberland  County,  as  was  then 
believed.,  were  the  assassins.  Some  change  in  this  regard 
was  made  by  subsequent  events.  Pat  Hester  was  a married 
man,  forty-five  years  of  age,  and  had  several  young  children. 
Prior  was  also  married,  said  to  be  forty  years  of  age.  Don- 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES 


69 


ahue  had  a wife  and  one  child,  and  was  apparently  forty- 
three.  Duffy  was  a bachelor,  of  about  twenty-five  years. 
Thomas  Dooley,  of  Palo  Alto,  Schuylkill  County,  standing, 
by  his  own  confession,  in  the  position  of  an  accomplice  in 
the  wicked  assassination,  about  a month  after  the  commission 
of  the  deed  gave  out  facts  which  caused  the  apprehension  of 
the  others  just  named.  The  cause  came  uj),  was  heard  'on 
an  application  for  a writ  of  habeas  corpus^  before  Judge  Kline, 
one  of  the  Associates  of  Schuylkill  County  ; and  all  the 
defendants  were  held  for  and  sent  to  Columbia  County  jail 
to  await  trial,  which  begun  at  Bloomsburg,  Tuesday  after- 
noon, the  second  of  February,  1869.  Donahue,  Prior, 
Hester,  and  Duffy  were  brought  into  court,  arraigned  by  the 
Prothonotary,  and  a j^lea  of  “ not  guilty”  entered  on  the  part 
of  each.  Upon  application  of  Mr.  Freeze,  for  the  defense, 
separate  trials  were  granted,  and  the  Commonwealth  elected 
to  proceed  against  Donahue.  Wednesday  morning  the  pris- 
oner entered  court,  accompanied  by  the  sheriff,  and  took  a 
seat  by  his  counsel,  Messrs.  John  W.  Ryon,  John  G.  Freeze, 
Meyer  Strouse,  S.  P.  Wolverton,  and  Wm.  A.  Marr,  an  array 
of  talent  which  was  well  met  by  that  included  in  the  list  of 
counsel  for  the  Commonwealth,  Messrs.  Linn  Bartholomew, 
Robert  F.  Clark,  Edward  H.  Badly,  M,  M.  L’Velle,  and  E.  R. 
Ikler,  the  last-named  the  District  Attorney.  After  a patient 
hearing  the  defendant  was  acquitted  by  the  jury,  and  the  pros- 
ecution, thereafter,  thought  it  advisable  to  abandon  the  rest  of 
the  indictments.  If  Donahue  could  not  be  convicted — and 
that  had  been  demonstrated  by  the  defeat  in  his  case — it 
was  considered  by  the  District  Attorney  and  his  corps  of 
assistants  it  would  be  impossible,  at  that  time,  to  fasten 
the  murder  upon  any  of  the  remaining  defendants. 

So  commanding  and  pervading  in  the  community  was  the 
subtle  power  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  that  a jury  could  be  secured  to  try  the  cause,  and  so 
abject  had  become  the  condition  of  terror  under  which  the 


70 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


people  submissively  bowed  their  necks,  seeing  no  possible 
avenue  of  escape,  that  witnesses  accredited  with  knowledge 
of  im[)ortant  points  bearing  against  the  prisoners,  dare  not, 
in  fear  of  their  lives,  mount  the  witness  stand. 

So  united  were  the  Mollie  Maguires,  or  whatever  at  that 
time  they  were  called,  they  swore  to  alibis  without  number, 
and  barred  all  further  immediate  proceedings. 

The  next  important  outrage  of  this  character,  charged 
to  the  sanguinary  clique  under  consideration,  was  that 
upon  the  person  of  AVm.  H.  Littlehales,  Superintendent  of 
the  Glen  Carbon  Coal  Company,  which  occurred  March  15, 
1869.  Mr.  Littlehales  was  also  killed  on  the  road,  in  Cass 
township,  Schuylkill  County,  while  en  routs  for  his  home  in 
Pottsville.  The  act  was  witnessed  by  several  persons,  but 
the  ])erpetrators  escaped,  and,  up  to  the  hour  that  1 sent 
James  McParlan,  otherwise  James  Mclvenna,  into  the  coal  ; 
region,  no  information  had  been  obtained  concerning  the  ■ 
identity  of  the  guilty  persons. 

Frequent  violent  outcroppings  of  the  organization  also 
occurred  in  Carbon  County,  which  adjoins  Schuylkill,  extend- 
ing over  a period  of  fifteen  years,  and  including  the  killing 
of  F.  W.  S.  Langdon,  Geo.  K.  Smith,  and  Graham  Powell,  * 
all  of  whom  were  either  superintendents  of  collieries,  or  in 
some  manner  connected  with  mining  operations.  Mr.  Smith  ' 
was  assailed  by  a body  of  murderers  in  his  own  dwelling  and 
quickly  dispatched,  almost  in  the  presence  of  his  panic- 
stricken  family.  Although  several  persons  were  under  the  j 
ban  of  suspicion,  and  supposed  to  have  participated  in  the  1 

affair,  it  was  impossible,  until  after  the  lai)se  of  many  years,  i. 
to  obtain  any  information  as  to  the  absolute  guilt  of  the  mis- 
trusted parties.  Some  of  these  were  then  arrested,  put  in  4 
jail  at  Afauch  Chunk,  and  in  a short  time  thereafter  forcibly  | 
rescued,  at  night,  by  their  associates  in  the  order.  ' 

It  appeared  that  superintendents  and  bosses  might  con- 
tinue to  be  shot  down,  and  there  remained  no  power  in  |{ 


lie  Jil  t'd  a pistol  shot  into  the  left  breast  of  the  victim. 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  J\ 

the  law  for  reparation.  The  assassins  were  sure  to  es- 
cape. 

The  object  of  many  of  these  dark  deeds  was  doubtless  re- 
venge. But  the  track  of  the  avenger — or  supposed  avenger 
— was  covered,  as  with  the  obliterating  leaves  of  autumn, 
and  not  to  be  followed.  The  assassinations  were  all  skil- 
fully planned,  relentlessly  carried  out,  and  the  bleeding  bodies 
and  evidences  on  the  ground  of  a deadly  struggle  were  all 
remaining  to  tell  the  tale  of  cruelty.  The  country  was  dis- 
graced, but  seemingly  there  was  no  help  for  it. 

In  1870  occurred  the  murder  of  a man  named  Burns,  near 
Pottsville,  and  nothing  was  learned  regarding  his  assassins. 

But  the  crowning  act  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  up  to  the 
time  of  my  engagement  in  the  matter  of  their  investigation, 
and  the  one  reaching  the  culmination  of  many  previous  and 
similar  events,  which  exasperated  the  good  people  of  the 
anthracite  region  to  the  pitch  where  endurance  ceases  to  be 
a virtue,  was  the  unprovoked  killing,  during  the  early  even- 
ing of  December  2,  1871,  of  Morgan  Powell,  Assistant 
Superintendent  of  the  Lehigh  and  Wilkesbarre  Coal  and 
Iron  Company,  at  Summit  Hill,  Carbon  County.  The  mur- 
der was  done  at  about  seven  o’clock,  on  the  street,  not  more 
than  twenty  feet  from  the  store  of  Henry  Williamson,  which 
place  Powell  had  but  a few  moments  earlier  left  to  go  to  the 
office  of  Mr.  Zehner,  the  General  Superintendent  of  the 
Company.  It  seems  that  one  of  three  men,  who  had  been 
seen  by  different  parties  waiting  near  the  store,  approached 
Mr.  Powell  from  the  rear,  close  beside  a gate  leading  into 
the  stables,  and  fired  a pistol  shot  into  the  left  breast  of  the 
victim,  leaning  toward  and  reaching  over  the  shoulder  of 
Powell  to  accomplish  his  deadly  purpose.  The  bullet  passed 
nearly  through  Powell’s  body,  lodging  in  the  back  near  the 
spinal  column,  producing  immediate  paralysis  of  the  lower 
limbs,  and  resulting  in  death  two  days  afterward.  The 
wounded  man  was  carried  back  to  the  store  by  some  of  his 


72 


BLOODY  RECORD  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


friends  and  his  son,  Charles  Powell,  the  latter  then  but  four- 
teen years  of  age,  and  there  remained  all  night.  The 
next  day  he  was  removed  to  the  residence  of  Morgan  Price, 
where  his  death  occurred  as  stated. 

Hardly  had  the  smoke  from  the  murderous  pistol  melted 
into  and  mingled  with  the  air  of  that  star -lit  winter  evening, 
when  the  assassins  were  discovered  rapidly  making  their  way 
from  the  scene  of  their  savage  deed  toward  the  top  of  'Plane 
No.  T.  They  were  met  by  Rev.  Allan  John  Morton  and 
Lewis  Richards,  who  were  hurrying  to  the  spot  to  learn  what 
had  caused  the  firing.  Mr.  Morton  asked,  as  they  stoj^ped 
on  the  rigging-stand,  what  was  the  trouble,  when  one  of  the 
three  strangers  answered  : “ 1 guess  a man  has  been  shot  ! ” 
One  of  this  trio  was  described  as  a short  person,  wearing  a 
soldier’s  overcoat,  and  the  second  also  as  being  low  in 
stature,  but  the  third  seemed  taller,  and  had  on  a long,  black 
coat.  Mr.  Morton  and  his  friend  passed  on,  and  the  mur- 
derers started  forward,  taking  the  direction  in  which  Mr. 
Powell  had  pointed  when  asked  by  Morrison  which  way  the 
attacking  party  had  gone.  They  paused  but  a moment, 
when  confronted  by  Morton  and  Richards,  and  appeared  to 
be  surprised  to  see  any  one  in  the  vicinity.  Mr.  Morton 
thought  that  he  might  identify  the  smaller  individual,  should 
he  see  him  again,  as  he  was  only  four  or  five  yards  from  him 
when  he  spoke  in  response  to  his  inquiry. 

‘‘  I’m  shot  to  death  ! My  lower  limbs  have  no  feeling  in 
them  ! ” was  the  exclamation  of  Mr.  Powell  when  AVilliam- 
son  raised  his  head.  Yet  who  it  was  that  had  killed  him  no 
one  could  tell.  They  were  strangers,  it  was  evident,  but 
where  they  had  come  from  was  a dark,  impenetrable  mystery. 
Patrick  Kildea,  however,  who  was  thought  to  resemble 
one  of  the  shorter  men,  was  arrested  and  tried,  but  finally 
acquitted,  from  lack  of  evidence  to  convict.  This,  for  the 
time,  was  the  end  of  that  matter. 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


73 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  DETECTIVE  SINGS,  FIGHTS,  AND  DANCES  HIMSELF  INTO 

POPULARITY. 

The  Sheridan  House,  Patrick  Dormer,  proprietor,  situated 
in  Centre  Street,  Pottsville,  was  somewhat  celebrated  in 
annals  of  the  town,  and  its  reputation  among  the  inhabitants 
by  no  means  doubtful  or  uncertain.  While  in  some  regards 
the  tavern  boasted  entire  respectability,  in  certain  others  it 
bore  a name  far  from  enviable.  Its  isolated  honors  were 
due  to  Mrs.  Dormer;  its  manv  dishonors  to  her  physically 
gigantic  but  morally  erratic  lord  and  master,  and  the  calling 
he  followed.  Many  were  the  drunken  brawls  and  midnight 
orgies  transpiring  beneath  its  steep  roof  and  within  its  tawny 
brick  walls  ; but  against  the  lady  of  the  house  nothing  could 
be  truthfully  charged — except  she  was  Dormer’s  wife.  The 
edifice  was  neither  private  residence  nor  hotel,  but  a com- 
pound of  the  two.  Three  stories  in  height,  having  a long, 
low  extension  in  its  rear,  lighted  by  a skylight,  and  in  which 
was  located  the  well-patronized  ten-pin  alley  ; the  basement 
of  the  main  structure  was  employed  as  dining-room,  kitchen, 
and  laundry,  and  the  first,  or  business  floor,  front,  for  saloon 
purposes.  Just  b*ack  of  the  latter  was  a card-playing  and 
bagatelle  division.  Entering  from  the  street,  the  first  place 
to  the  southward,  or  right  hand  of  the  visitor,  was  the  bar, 
the  counter  of  which  extended  as  far  as  the  partition  divid- 
ing the  tap-room  proper  from  the  small  parlor.  In  the  last- 
named  apartment  were  stands  and  chairs  for  card-players, 
and  the  bagatelle  table.  From  this  sitting  room  admission 
was  found  to  a gallery,  or  small  balcony,  overlooking  the 
ball-alley  and  from  which  spectators  might  watch  the  progress 

4 


74 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


of  the  game  going  on  below.  I.,eaving  the  same  corridor,  or 
hallway,  a staircase  led  to  the  sleeping  and  other  apartments 
of  the  second  story.  There  were  two  apj)roaches  to  the 
house  from  the  street,  one  at  the  south  and  right  hand, 
penetrating  to  the  rooms  above-stairs,  without  troubling 
people  in  the  public  ])laces,  and  the  other  at  the  centre, 
reaching  directly  to  the  bar  room.  The  latter  was  a capacious, 
comfortable  affair,  and  the  supply  of  drinkables  in  cut-glass 
decanters,  and  beer,  ale,  and  porter  on  draught,  always  quite 
large,  if  not  select  qs  to  quality  and  brand.  The  patronage 
extended  to  the  saloon  was  miscellaneous,  but  apparently 
very  profitable  to  the  keeper. 

When  McKenna  paused  before  the  house,  from  the  inte- 
rior came  sounds  of  rude  music,  evidently  emanating  from 
some  discordant  and  faultily-fingered  violin.  He  succeeded, 
however,  in  recognizing  an  air  to  which  he  had  tripped  many 
a jig  in  the  old  country.  Considering  for  a moment  the 
course  he  should  take,  the  detective  gave  his  tangled  locks 
an  extra  twist,  stuck  his  hat  on  one  side  of  his  head,  rolled 
unsteadily  up  to  the  door,  fumbled  awkwardly  with  the  knob, 
finally  turned  it,  and  stood  in  the  bar  room.  The  picture 
then  presented  to  his  eye  was  considered  not  uncommon  to 
behold  in  the  mining  district,  yet  rather  striking  to  and 
never  to  be  forgotten  by  an  uninitiated  spectator.  The 
place  exposed  to  view  was  about  half  filled  with  men,  the 
majority  of  whom  were  clad  in  rough  attire^ — somewhat  differ-  | 
ent  from  the  miner’s  shifting  clothes,  however — and,  with 
their  companions,  stood  and  sat  around  a sprinkling  of  citi- 
zens,  mechanics,  street  laborers,  and  others.  Pat  Dormer,  j 
towering  high  above  all,  and  whose  form  the  detective  was  i 
not  slow  to  single  out  and  know,  through  Jennings’  descrip- 
tion, seemed  to  be  making  himself  actively  useful  outside, 
conversing  glibly  with  his  customers,  while  his  spouse,  fresh-  ' 
faced,  short  in  figure,  and  matronly  looking,  stood  behind 
the  counter,  dispensing  with  steady  hand,  ready  smile,  and  j 


lie  struck  an  attitude  and  without  further  prelude  bec^an  his  best  Irish  break  doicn. 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR.  75 

pleasant  word  the  various  stimulants  in  demand  "by  her 
patrons. 

In  one  corner,  uneasily  perched  at  the  top  of  an  empty 
whisky  barrel — stolid  of  eye  and  face,  frowzy-haired,  low- 
browed, stunted  in  body,  long  of  arm,  and  crooked  spined— 
was  the  spasmodic  little  fiddler,  drawing  away  industriously 
at  his  bow,  his  sallow  cheek  resting  caressingly  on  the  old 
violin,  and  producing  semi-musical  tones  not  so  easily  under- 
stood as  entering  into  the  composition  of  that  frolicsome 
piece,  called  “ The  Devil’s  Dream.”  With  one  big,  boot- 
clad  foot  he  kept  time  irregularly  against  the  staves  forming 
part  of  his  throne. 

All  in  the  saloon  were  perfect  strangers  to  McKenna,  but 
that  made  no  difference.  He  "staggered  about  near  the 
threshold  for  an  instant,  while  he  me^rtally  measured  the 
people  in  whose  company  he  was,  and  ma^de  a hurried  inven- 
tory of  the  immediate  surroundings  ; then,  ajipearing  to 
gather  inspiration  from  the  lively  squeak  of  the  fiddle,  he  ad- 
vanced to  the  middle  of  the  floor,  where  remained  a few 
square  yards  of  vacant  space,  struck  an  attitude,  and,  without 
further  prelude,  begun  his  best  Irish  break-down.  The  steps 
were  nimble,  well  chosen,  emphasized  with  heel  and  toe, 
and,  despite  his  assumed  state  of  semi-intoxication,  the  time 
was  fairly  kept  with  the  measure  of  the  tune.  Dormer 
looked  upon  the  strange  intruder,  at  first,  as  though  unde- 
cided vvhether  he  should  toss  him  outside  his  door,  as  he 
would  a mangy  cur,  or  applaud  his  terpsichorean  perform- 
ance. Then  he  gradually  absorbed  the  magnetism  of  the 
dance,  and  the  music  made  by  feet  and  bow  and  string,  and, 
seating  himself  on  a convenient  chair,  held  his  face  between 
his  two  brawny  hands,  the  elbows  resting  on  his  knees,  and 
interestedly  scanned  McKenna’s  movements,  keeping  the 
rhythm,  meanwhile,  by  swaying  his  broad  shoulders  from  side 
to  side.  The  agile  shuffling  evidently  gave  him  pleasure, 
and,  turning  to  the  sleepy  musician  he  loudly  ordered  him 


76 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


to  “play  fasther!”  The  request  was  instantly  obeyed,  and 
quicker  and  quicker  came  the  inspiriting  notes,  faster  and 
faster  were  the  manoeuvres  of  the  dance  executed,  and  the  more 
fantastically  the  dancer  turned  and  whirled,  and  threw  out  leg 
and  arm,  in  gesticulations  more  grotesque  than  graceful. 

“ Nae  cotillion  brent  new  frae  France, 

But  hornpipes,  jigs,  strathspeys,  and  reels, 

Put  life  and  mettle  in  his  heels.” 

It  was  not  long  before  every  occupant  of  the  place,  Mrs. 
Dormer  inclusive,  took  up  the  measure  and,  while  none  but 
the  central  personage  actually  indulged  in  a reel,  beat  time 
to  the  chords  the  violinist  touched. 

Dormer,  as  usual,  was  somewhat  overcome  by  liquor,  but 
arose  at  the  conclusion  of  the  jig,  advanced  to  McKenna, 
who  stood,  for  a few  seconds,  almost  exhausted  by  his  exer- 
tions, took  the  detective  by  the  hand  and  warmly  welcomed 
him  to  the  place,  saying  : 

“ Very  good  ! Very  good  ! Be  the  sowl  of  me  great- 
grandfather ! I've  niver  seen  such  a jigger  since  the  days 
of  jolly  Dan  Carey  ! Walk  up,  stranger,  an’  have  a sup  of 
the  best  in  the  house  ; an’  be  the  same  token,  let  everybody 
else  take  somethin’  at  my  cost  !■  I am  greatly  plazed,  that 
I am,  to  recave  such  iligant  company  ! ” 

“ Av  coorse  I hev  no  objection  in  the  worruld,”  answered 
McKenna,  returning  Dormer’s  strong  grasp  with  interest, 
“wid  the  understandin’,  if  it  be  quite  convanient,  that  I’m  to 
give  all  of  yez  a bit  of  a song  afther  the  wettin’  of  me  whistle  ! ” 

“Sure,  an’  a stave  or  so  of  a song  is  jist  what  we’re  afther 
the  wantin’,”  responded  a man  the  operative  had  heard 
called  Kelly. 

The  drinks  were  prepared  by  Mrs.  Dormer  with  even  more 
than  her  usual  dexterity.  Then  the  uncanny  fiddler  vacated 
his  barrel-head,  McKenna  assumed  his  place,  hat  on  head, 
arms  akimbo,  and,  without  any  accompaniment,  gave  the 
iollowing  ballad  : ^ 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


77 


Pat  Dolan,  it’s  my  Christian  name, 

Yes,  an’  my  surname  too,  sir; 

An’  oft  you’ve  listened  to  me  sthrane. 

I’ll  tell  you  somethin’  new,  sir  ! 

In  Cavan-town,  where  we  sat  down, 

Our  Irish  hearts  to  inspire. 

There’s  bould  reci'uits  an’  undaunted  yout’s, 

An’  they’r  led  by  Mollie  Maguire  ! 

Chorus. 

“ With  my  riggadum  du,  an’  to  h — 1 wid  the  crew 
Wouldn’t  help  to  free  our  nation; 

When  I look  back,  I count  ’em  slack, 

Wouldn’t  join  our  combination  ! 

“ Said  Mollie  to  her  darlin’  sons, 

‘ What  tyrant  shall  we  tumble  ? 

That  filthy  tribe  we  can’t  abide, 

They  rob  both  meek  and  humble ; 

There  is  one  Bell,  a child  of  h — 1, 

An’  a Magistrate  in  station. 

Let  lots  be  drew  an’  see  which  av  you 

Will  tumble  him  to  damnation  ! ’ — CHORUS. 

“ The  lot’s  now  cast,  the  sentence  passed, 

I scorn  to  tell  a lie,  sir  ! 

I got  my  chance,  it  wur  no  blank ; 

I wur  glad  to  win  the  prize,  sir  ! 

To  swate  Bill  Cooney’s  I did  repair. 

To  meet  the  parson.  Bell,  sir  ! 

At  his  brain  I took  me  aim, 

Sayin’  ‘ Come  down,  ye  fin’  o’  h — 1,  sir  ! ’ — CHORUS. 

“ Those  Orangemen,  they  gathered  then. 

An’  swore  they’d  kill  us  all,  sir  ! 

For  their  frien’  Bell,  who  lately  fell, 

An’  got  a terrible  fall,  sir  ! 

But  Mollie’s  sons,  wid  swords  an’  guns, 

Wid  pikes — pitchforks — glancin’. 

Those  bould  recruits  an’  undaunted  yout’s. 

Stepped  into  the  field  just  prancin’. 


— Chorus. 


78 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


“ Those  Orangemen,  they  all  stood  then, 

To  fight  they  tliouglU  it  a folly  ; 

They’d  rather  run  an’  save  their  lives, 

An’  leave  the  field  to  Mollie  ! 

Alt  ho’  I’m  in  a foreign  land, 

From  the  cause  I’ll  ne’er  retire, 

May  heaven  smile  on  every  chil’ 

That  belongs  to  Mollie  Maguire  ! — CHORUS. 

“ One  night  as  I lay  upon  me  bed, 

I heard  a terrible  rattle  ; 

Who  wor  it  but  Bell,  come  back  from  h — 1, 

To  fight  another  battle  ! 

Then  at  his  brain  I took  me  aim — 

He  vanished  off  in  fire — 

An’  as  he  went  the  air  he  rent 

Sayin’,  ‘ I’m  conquered  by  Mollie  Maguire  ! ’ — CHORUS. 

“ Now  I’m  in  America, 

An’  that’s  a free  nation  ! 

I generally  sit  an’  take  my  sip 

Far  from  a police  station  ! , 

Four  dollars  a day — its  not  bad  pay — 

An’  the  boss  he  likes  me  well,  sir  ! 

But  little  he  knows  that  I’m  the  man 
That  shot  that  fin’  o’  h — 1,  sir  ! 

Chorus. 

“ Wid  me  riggadum  du — an’  to  h — 1 wid  the  crew 
Wouldn’t  fight  to  free  our  nation. 

When  I look  back  I count  ’em  slack 
Wouldn’t  join  our  combination  ! ” 

During  the  progress  of  the  ditty — the  air  of  which  no 
description  can  do  justice  to — the  audience,  the  members 
of  which  had  gradually  drawn  nigh  the  singer,  joined  in  the 
refrain  with  a strength  of  lung  and  depth  of  voice  causing 
the  casements  to  rattle  and  the  air  to  resound.  The  enthu- 
siasm evolved  was  so  intense  and  found  such  loud  vent,  that 
some  moments  necessarily  elapsed  before  quiet  \yas  so  far 
restored  as  to  permit  McKenna  to  make  himself  understood, 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  BOB  C/LAE. 


79 


after  descending  once  more  to  the  floor,  as  wanting  the 
friends  present  to  “ stand  furninst  the  bar  an’  have  a noggin 
of  poteen  wid  him  ! ” The  request,  when  fairly  heard,  was 
readily  complied  with. 

It  was  very  soon  revealed  to  the  acute  senses  of  the  oper- 
ative that  he  had  made  an  impression  which  could  not  well 
fail  in  being  useful  to  him  in  the  future.  The  effect,  in  the 
landlord’s  case,  was  not  to  be  misunderstood,  and  he,  Jen- 
nings had  said,  was  a “ captain  among  the  Sleepers,”  or  Mol- 
lies. The  overgrown  fellow  was  zealous  in  his  openly-ex- 
pressed, newly-awakened  regard  for  the  stranger,  and  after 
hearing  some  sentimental  and  comical  songs,  seated  himself 
by  McKenna’s  side  and  entered  upon  a course  of  minute 
inquiry  as  to  the  detective’s  nativity,  residence,  last  occupa- 
tion, business  in  the  mines,  etc.  Mrs.  Dormer,  in  the 
meantime,  attended  to  the  drinks,  and  was  hot  long  in  per- 
ceiving that  their  visitor — the  lion  of  the  evening,  in  fact — 
had  some  money  with  him,  and  was,  sailor-like,  dispensing  it 
freely  for  the  gratification  of  her  guests.  Dormer,  on  his 
part,  was  soon  in  possession  of  the  fact  that  McKenna  was 
from  Colorado — but  latest  from  New  York — looking  for 
work,  after  which  he  proposed  a trials  at  cards  in  the  back 
sitting-room,  honoring  the  stranger  by  choosing  him  as  his 
partner.  Kelly  and  a scowling,  heavy-set,  large-boned  man, 
named  Frazer,  were  to  be  pitted  against  them.  It  was 
euchre  that  they  entered  upon,  the  stakes  being  refreshments 
for  the  four.  The  game  progressed  peacefully.  Dormer  and 
his  friend  at  first  gaining  some  advantages,  but  the  landlord 
soon  losing  his  little  remaining  wit,  with  accession  of  more 
whisky,  they  began  to  fall  off  in  the  winnings.  McKenna 
was  quick  to  see  plentiful  cause  for  this  ill-success.  Frazer, 
when  dealing,  passed  himself  six  cards  instead  of  the  proper 
number,  and  played  other  tricks  generally  classed  as  among 
cheats  and  frauds.  The  operative,  seized  Frazer’s  hand 
and  exposed  the  deceit  to  the  gaze  of  his  -companions. 


8o 


MCKENNA  BECOME^  POPULAR. 


denouncing  the  swindler  in  no  measured  terms.  The 
game  was  broken  up ; Dormer  was  raving  furiously,  and 
all  hands  returned  to  the  bar,  where  many  of  its  for- 
mer occupants  still  remained.  Once  there,  Frazer  threw  off 
his  coat,  and  challenged  his  accuser  to  fight  him,  saying : 

“ ril  maul  the  sod  wid  any  cowardly  bog-trotter  m sivin 
counties  that  says  1 chate  at  cards  ! ” 

McKenna,  in  spite  of  the  liquor  he  had  been  compelled  to 
imbibe,  still  retained  his  mental  faculties  and  physical  strength 
in  perfection— ^although,  following  the  scheme  he  had  started, 
he  pretended  to  be  more  deeply  intoxicated  than  when  lie  first 
made  his  appearance  at  Dormer’s — and  he  scornfully  looked 
upon  his  opponent’s  portly  form  as  he  defiantly  responded : 

‘‘  Do  ye  think,  fur  wan  moment,  that  I’m  afraid  of  the 
likes  of  you?  Ye  may  live  to  larn  better.  I’ll  bate  ye  fairly, 
an’  wid  the  coat  on  me  back,  at  that  ! ” 

The  detective  tossed  only  his  hat  aside  and  squared  himself 
pluckily,  while  Dormer  volunteered  to  act  as  his  second,  giving 
the  word  to  his  friends,  who  cheered  lustily  for  the  stranger. 

Mrs.  Dormer  had  disappeared  at  the  first  signs  of  a rup- 
ture, and  the  bar  took  care  of  itself. 

Kelly  seconded  Frazer.  The  ring  was  formed  and  the 
two  men  entered  it,  Frazer  confident  in  his  great  strength 
and  the  detective  relying  upon  some  experience  in  tlie  manly 
art  of  self-defense.  The  contest  commenced.  At  the  out- 
set McKenna  acted  purely  on  the  defensive,  only  seeking  to 
throw  off  or  evade  Frazer’s  many  unskillful  but  heavy  strokes. 
He  desired  to  study  his  antagonist’s  tactics  and  test  his  mus- 
cle before  using  offensive  measures.  The  result  was,  at  the 
end  of  a protracted  round,  the  smaller  sparrer  was  dropped 
to  the  floor  by  a sledge-hammer  blow,  fair  on  the  ear.  First 
blood  and  first  knock-down  were  claimed  for  the  heavy-weight. 
But  these  were  all  he  secured  to  boast  of  during  the  contin- 
uance of  the  fight — excepting  severe  punishment — as  Mc- 
Kenna carried  off  the  honors  in  five  consecutive  rounds,  at 


MCKENNA  BECOMES  POPULAR. 


8i 


the  close  of  all  of  which  he  deftly  sent  his  opponent  to  the 
earth,  each  time  with  a new  wound  of  some  sort  to  remember 
him  by.  Between  the  bouts  Dormer  would  take  him  to  their 
corner,  place  spirits  to  his  ]:>rincipars  lips,  sponge  off  his  face 
and  arms  in  regular  prize-ring  fashion,  and  return  him  in  due 
season  for  more  work.  The  opposing  man  was  equally  well 
served  by  Kelly,  but,  after  so  many  fast-following  and  disas- 
trous defeats,  his  right  eye  being  fully  closed  and  useless,  and 
the  other  badly  damaged,  Frazer  could  not  be  coaxed  or 
driven  to  come  forward  to  the  mark  again.  Then  his  backers 
gave  him  up,  and  Kelly  took  him  away,  a badly  whipped  and 
quite  crest-fallen  bully.  Victory  was  proclaimed  by  Dormer 
for  McKenna,  and  the  Pottsville  Giant  was  in  great  glee, 
stroking  the  shoulder  of  his  new-discovered  pet  and  making 
grimaces  that  he  intended  to  be  pleasing,  but  which  were 
more  like  demoniacal  grins  than  smiles.  Dormer  shouted  as 
Frazer  went  out : 

“ Good  ! Good  ! for  me  laddy-buck  from  the  West ! He’s 
the  true  grit  from  head  to  toe  ! An’,  hereafter,  if  anybody 
in  Schuylkill  County  jist  wants  to  bother  wid  him,  they  must 
deal  wid  Pat  Dormer  fust  ! An’  he’s  no  dawshy  infant ! ” 

‘‘  I’ll  have  the  laste  taste  of  gin  in  mine  ! ” said  McKenna, 
“ an’  I belave  all  here  present  will  join  us  in  drinkin’  con- 
fusion to  all  mane  scuts  and  chates  ! ” 

The  sentiment -was  applaudingly  echoed  and  the  drinks 
very  quickly  absorbed. 

Among  others,  one  whom  McKenna  had  heard  called 
Tom  Hurley,  came  up  and  congratulated  the  victor,  hoping 
he  had  received  no  serious  hurts. 

“ Oh  ! nothing  but  a wee  flea-bite  on  me  smeller,”  answered 
McKenna,  “ which  by  the  mornin’  will  be  all  correct  again  ! 
A scrimmage  like  this  every  avenin’  in  the  wake,  would  only 
jist  give  me  jints  nadeful  exercise  ! ” 

Thus  ended  the  detective’s  first  experience  in  the  amateur 
prize-ring. 


4* 


82 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 

Kelly  soon  returned  to  the  saloon,  reporting  his  principal 
in  the  late  encounter  as  well  as,  under  the  circumstances,  he 
could  expect  to  be,  and  hinting  that,  as  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, he  was  eager  to  resume  friendly  relations  with 
McKenna,  who,  he  very  frankly  acknowledged,  “wur  quite 
in  the  right,  an’  Frazer  far  in  the  wrong ! ” This  proved 
enough  to  warm  the  heart  of  the  operative  toward  the  second 
of  his  recent  adversary,  and  the  two  men,  left  to  themselves, 
at  once  inaugurated  a close  intimacy. 

After  another  jig,  to  the  lively  tune  of  the  “ White  Cockade  ” 
— suggested  by.  McKenna  for  a purpose,  and  which  the  fid- 
dler, already  fast  asleep  and  unmusically  snoring,  prone  upon 
a bench,  was  awakened  to  execute — the  detective  called  all 
hands  once  niore  to  the  bar,  and,  through  the  use  of  a little 
legerdemain,  filling  his  tumbler  half  full  of  water — but  his 
friends  meanwhile  thinking  it  undiluted  gin — he  proposed  : 
“Here’s  to  ‘the  power  that  makes  English  landlords  trem- 
ble ! ’ Here’s  confusion  to  all  the  inimies  of  ould  Ireland  ! ” 
Tom  Hurley,  who  had  been  one  of -Kelly’s  partisans, 
enthusiastically  thum})ed  him  on  the  shoulder  and  answered  : 
“ Hurrah  ! Them’s  the  sentiments  ! Let  all  here  drink 
to  ’em  ! ” 

Hurley,  Dormer,  and  Kelly,  with  the  detective,  and  the 
remainder  of  the  assemblage,  drained  their  goblets  in  silence. 
McKenna,  who  was  on  the  alert,  thought  he  noticed  a com- 
municative wink  passing  between  Kelly  and  Dormer,  but 
not  a syllable  was  uttered  to  inform  him  whether  he  had  hit 
upon  anything  of  importance  in  employing  his  well-remem- 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 


83 


bered  toast — first  heard  at  Tremont.  No  language  having  the 
sound  of  a legitimate  response  to  it  was  he  enabled  to  dis- 
tinguish. In  a short  time,  however,  Kelly  came  over  to  him 
with  a whispered  request  to  repair  to  the  little  sitting-room. 
He  obeyed,  and,  as  he  followed  to  that  place,  he  found 
himself  discussing  in  his  own  mind  what  might  now  be  in 
store  for  him — what  would  prove  the  result  of  the  impending 
interview.  He  was  not  fearful — but  anticipated  taking  what- 
ever came  with  as  good  a grace  as  possible.  After  occupy- 
ing their  seats,  his  companion  remarked  : 

“ Didn’t  I see  you  at  Minersville,  not  long  ago,  in  com- 
pany with  Hugh  Mahan  ? ” 

“ Sure,  an’  may  be  you  did  ! You  might  as  well  as  not,  at 
laste,  fur  I war  wid  him,  at  that  place,  only  the  last  month 
sometime ! ” 

Kelly  scanned  the  face  of  the  detective  sharply  for  a 
second,  and  then  resumed  : 

“ Do  you  chance  to  belong  to  the  Emeralds  ? The  benev- 
olent society  of  that  name  is  what  I mane  ! ” 

“No,  1 do  not  ! ” 

“Well,  I know  Mahan  to  be  a mimber,  an’  he’s  been  mak- 
in’  himself  very  free  wid  lashins  of  people,  hereabouts,  within 
the  past  few  wakes,  invitin’  them  to  join,  an’  T didn’t  know 
but  you  were  wan  of  his  sort ! ” 

“ Not  at  all  ! I niver  belonged  to  any  of  the  nature  in 
this  counthry  ! In  Ireland,  once,  sure  an’  I had  a little  of 
what  ye  might  call  exparience  in  that  line  ! ” 

Before  the  conversation  could  go  any  farther — as  Mc- 
Kenna thought,  quite  providentially — Kelly  was  called  out 
of  the  apartment,  some  person  wishing  to  see  him,  and 
Dormer  entered  and  assumed  his  place  at  the  table.  They 
both  tasted  the  contents  of  a black  bottle  that  the  landlord 
had  brought  with  him,  and  then  Dormer  asked  : 

“ How  long  is  it  since  ye  war  made  a mimber  ? ” 

“ What  do  ye  mane — mimber  of  phat  ? ” 


84 


DORMER  UNDER  INFEST/ GAT/ON. 


“ Oh,  ye  nade  not  be  backward,  young  man  ! I hev  taken 
a likin’  to  ye,  and  all  in  this  house  are  my  friends — an’ 
yours ! ” 

The  word  friend  was  peculiarly  emphasize-d. 

“Well,”  said  McKenna,  “ I never  joined  wid  any  body  of 
the  sort  in  America;  I didn’t  know  it  would  be  any  use  to 
me  when  1 left  home,  so  I jist  quit  it  entirely.  Had  I 
stopped  long  in  New  York,  instead  of  goin’  to  Colorado,  to 
dig  in  the  silver  mines,  I might  have  acted  in  a different  way, 
kaping  up  me  ould  mimbership  ! ” 

“Yes  ! I see  what  you  intend  ! Bedad,  but  New  York  is 
full  of  the  rale  stuff ! Indade,  I may  say  it  is  rotten  wid  that 
same  ! I have  been  on  the  inside  since  I was  old  enough. 
But  recently  I have  had  a slight  misundersthanding,  that  I 
nade  not  mention  now,  but  it’s  bein’  settled,  an’  the  sooner 
the  better  it’ll  suit  me  ! When  it  is  once  fixed,  I mane  to  be 
the  best  among  ’em  again  ! Most  of  those  outside  are  mim- 
bers.  So  you  see  you’re  safe  enough  ! ” 

“Yes!  but  you  see,  Misther  Dormer,”  said  McKenna, 
sipping  the  liquor  remaining  in  his  glass,  “it’s  been  such  a 
long  time  since  I heard  anything,  or  thought  anything,  of 
the  order,  that,  as  ye  might  say,  I’m  almost  as  ignorant  as  if 
I niver  had  seen  the  inside  of  the  affair,  an’  I belave,  until  I 
am  once  more  initiated,  the  best  thing  I can  do  is  to  say  as 
little  about  it  as  convanient ! Perhaps,  after  a while,  when 
you  all  knows  me  betther,  I may  be  found  worthy  of  active 
mimbership.  I’m  not  the  laste  bit  afraid  but  I’ll  make  as 
good  a society  man  as  iver  walked  on  two  fate  in  ail  Penn- 
sylvania ! I’m  not  at  all  frightened — don’t  ye  think  that  of 
me  !” 

“Who  would  belave  that  ye  war,  afther  the  divii’s  own 
basting  ye  gave  Fightin’  Frazer,  an’  he  all  the  while  big 
enough  to  put  ye  in  his  breeches  pocket  an’  walk  off  wid  ye, 
as  a boy  might  wid  a pet  squirrel?  Oh,  nobody  hereabouts 
will  long  pretind  to  me  that  McKenna  is  at  all  timid  1” 


DORMER  UNDER  INFER  TIG  AT/ON. 


35 


Here  Dormer — led  off  by  expert  hints,  made  by  the  opera- 
tive, quite  forgot  the  object  of  his  interview — which  undoubt- 
edly was  to  fully  test  the  stranger  as  to  his  former  knowledge 
of  the  Sleepers — and  the  conversation  became  general.  Soon 
it  was  wholly  interrupted  by  calls  from  the  bar-room,  which 
the  landlord  was  forced  to  give  attention.  McKenna  had 
fabricated  all  that  he  made  pretence  of  having  gone  through 
with  in  connection  with  the  order  in  the  old  country — being 
as  much  in  the  dark,  as  to  the  interior  work  of  the  associa- 
tion there  as  in  the  United  States — for  the  purpose  of  draw- 
ing something  from  Dormer,  but  he  dare  not  enter  far  into 
particulars,  dreading  an  exposure  of  his  shortcomings.  He 
thought  it  extremely  fortunate  that,  thus  far,  none  of  his 
associates  had  been  able  to  fathom  his  assumptions  or  con- 
tradict his  assertions.  Both  of  these  had  been  purposely 
kept  rather  indefinite,  that  he  might  safely  retreat,  assum- 
ing to  have  spoken  of  some  other  society,  should  an  expos- 
ure be  imminent. 

Presently  the  saloon  was  vacated  and  the  doors  closed. 
The  morning  of  another  day  was  nigh  at  hand,  and  Dormer, 
donning  his  coat,  went  with  McKenna  part  of  his  way  home- 
ward, and  would  not  separate  from  the  new-comer  in  Potts- 
ville  until  he  secured  a promise  that  he  would  frequently 
visit  the  Sheridan  House  and  make  himself  quite  at  home 
there.  They  parted  warm  friends,  the  detective  to  go  to  bed, 
and  the  innkeeper  to  return  to  his  hotel. 

The  next  morning,  when,  after  a few  hours  of  unrefresh- 
ing slee]),  the  detective  arose,  he  felt  very  much  the  worse  for 
his  fistic  and  other  muscular  exercises  of  the  preceding 
twenty-four  hours.  About  every  bone  in  his  body  ached 
fearfully,  and  his  eyes  and  lii)s  were  dry  and  inflamed.  How- 
ever, an  application  of  cold  water  afforded  him  some  relief, 
and,  having  partaken  of  a late  but  hearty  breakfast,  he  again 
evaded  Jennings  and  went  to  the  Sheridan- House,  accord- 
ing to  agreement.  The  landlord  greeted  him  very  cordially, 


86 


DORMER  UNDER  IN  EE  ST/ GAT/ON. 


and  joined  in  sometliing  liquid  and  inspiring;  then  informed 
his  visitor  that,  as  he  was  an  “old  trump,”  he  was  just  the 
man  to  go  with  him  to  attend  to  some  business  of  a private 
character  in  another  part  of  the  city.  They  attended  church, 
after  which  their  steps*  took  another  direction,  landing  them 
inside  Capt.  Dougherty’s  saloon,  where  several  of  the  men 
McKenna  had  previously  encountered  at  Dormer’s  were 
already  convened, 

Dougherty  kept  a real  estate  office,  was  a sort  of  a lawyer, 
and  his  son  took  general  charge  of  the  drinking  place.  The 
elder  Dougherty  was  present  on  this  occasion,  and  did  not 
seem  pleased  that  Dormer  had  brought  a stranger  along, 
though  he  contented  himself  with  scowling  upon  him  and 
saying  nothing  particularly  hateful.  Following  a compan- 
ionable dram  or  two — one  profftred  all  hands  by  the  new 
arrival — the  men  repaired  to  a back  room,  McKenna  having 
been  previously  warned  by  Dormer  to  remain  behind,  unless 
sent  for.  In  a moment  he  was  alone  in  the  bar-room,  while, 
as  he  supposed,  a body  of  the  bloody  Mollie  Maguires  was 
in  session  under  the  same  roof.  More  than  an  hour  elapsed, 
and  there  was  not  an  order  sent  in  for  a drop  to  drink, 
which,  considering  the  character  of  the  party,  was,  he 
thought,  rather  strange.  Still  the  men  remained  in  council. 
He  was  only  able  occasionally  to  hear  a confused  murmur 
of  voices  in  the  adjoining  apartment,  and  could  make  out 
nothing  that  was  said.  What  were  they  deliberating  about  ? 
He  could  not  guess,  but  he  seemed  to  have  a certain  dread 
of  the  result,  as  though  it  might  affect  his  own  safety.  “ Per- 
haps,” he  surmised,  “ these  fellows  are  even  now  considering 
whether  I am  an  impostor  or  not,  and  should  they  prove 
successful  in  showing  me  up  in  m)'-  true  character  my^  life  will 
pay  the  forfeit  of  my  rashness  in  venturing  among  them.” 

Still  he  pretended  to  doze  unconcernedly  in  his  chair  be- 
fore the  cheerful  fire. 

But  all  similarly  uncomfortable  thoughts  were  dispersed 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 


87 


and  his  attention  turned  in  another  and  more  comfortable 
direction  by  the  sudden  return  of  Capt.  Dougherty  to  the 
bar.  And  he  came  not  for  liquor.  He  evidently  wished  to 
speak  with  the  stranger,  as  he  advanced  toward  him,  extend- 
ing his  hand  pleasantly,  saying  : 

“ Excuse  me,  friend  McKenna,  for  keeping  you  so  long 
alone  ! 1 must  ask  your  forgiveness  for  another  thing  ! 

Wlien  I first  saw  you  here,  I made  up  a rash  opinion  that 
you  were  against  us,  and  I so  charged,  as  I now  see,  acting 
under  a mistaken  notion,  as  I am  fully  convinced  you  are  all 
right,  an’  ‘ old  head*’ — an’  I desire  to  see  an’  know  more  of 
you  ! Dormer  vouches  for  you — and  his  word  is  not  to  be 
questioned  ! ” 

“What  is  it  all  about,  now  ? What  do  ye  mane  ? ” 

“I  mean  you  are  all  correct!  You  are  an  ‘old-timer!’ 
That’s  what  1 mean  ! ” 

“ Af  coorse  I knew  it ! Why  not?  I hev  no  objections  to 
all  that  ! I’m  also  agreeable  to  your  better  acquaintance  ! ” 
And  the  detective’s  thoughts  were  lightened  considerably. 
A load  seemed  lifted  from  him.  And,  the  remainder  of  the 
company  soon  coming  in,  he  was  cordially  congratulated  by 
many,  and  quickly  responded  by  another  urgent  request  to 
“ assist  in  making  the  disappearance  of  some  more  noggins 
of  poteen.”  That’s  the  way  he  fashioned  it.  All  accepted 
with  alacrity. 

In  a short  time  Dormer  and  McKenna  took  their  leave, 
after  promising  to  look  in  at  the  saloon  again.  As  soon  as 
outside  Dormer  began  to  inform  his  frien.d  that  a committee 
had  been  engaged  in  investigating  his  own  case,  the  charge 
being  that  he.  Dormer,  was  a member  of  an  Odd  Fellow’s 
lodge,  but  so  far  they  had  been  unable  to  fix  it  upon  him, 
and  he  did  not  believe  they  ever  would.  Dormer  also 
explained  that  Dougherty  had  cast  doubts  upon  McKenna’s 
genuineness,  otherwise  he  would  have  been  invited  to  take 
a seat  with  the  Board.  Of  course  he  was  not  very  friendly 


88 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 


with  Dougherty  for  his  “ impertinence,”  as  he  worded  it, 
and  said  he’d  whip  him,  one  of  these  days,  if  he  was  shoved 
out  of  the  order.  As  long  as  he  remained  in  it,  he  would 
not  dare  strike  him  a blow.  McKenna  said  he  forgave  the 
Captain  and  wanted  nothing  further  done  about  it. 

While  making  for  the  Sheridan  House,  Dormer  invited  the 
operative  to  enter  a saloon,  and  there  introduced  him  to  one 
Deenan,  alias  Bushy  Deenan — called  so  from  his  plentiful  crop 
of  bristling,  bushy  hair  and  beard — where  they  met  a number  of 
old  acquaintances  and  made  some  new  ones.  Deenan’s  was 
another  rendezvous  for  the  Mollies  in  Pottsville.  Not  remain- 
ing there  long,  the  two  once  more  started  for  Dormer’s  house. 
Arriving  there,  the  landlord  and  McKenna  had  the  bar  to 
themselves ; and  sitting  in  a comfortable  chair,  and  stretch- 
ing out  his  huge  limbs  before  the  glowing  stove,  Dormer 
commented  upon  one  they  had  just  parted  from. 

“ That  man,  Deenan,  is  a miserable  hypocrite  ! I hev  my 
own  opinion  of  the  likes  of  him  ! They  hev  little  good  in 
them — barrin’  the  big  talk — an’  that  puts  no  whisky  in  the 
can.  He’s  all  smooth  and  straight  while  forninst  ye,  but 
when  out  of  sight  he’s  worse  nor  a rattlesnake.  More  nor 
that,  he  has  no  backbone  in  him  ! When  the  trying  time 
comes  you  don’t  find  him  there  ! He’ll  wag  his  jaw  till  all’s 
blue,  but  divil  a bit  of  fight  is  there  in  him  ! For  instance  : 
Last  fall,  early,  when  there  was  considerable  excitement 
among  the  miners,  a fellow  was  to  be  beaten,  for  some  reason 
known  to  the  byes  who  axed  it  to  be  done,  in  a township 
not  far  from  this,  beyant  the  mountain,  an’  the  job  fell  on 
my  nephew,  Jim  O’Reilly,  an’  Bushy  Deenan.  Well,  1 fur- 
nished all  the  money  needful,  and  O’Reilly,  tho’  but  a broth 
of  a boy,  was  all  ready,  cocked  and  primed,  to  start  for  the 
place,  when  what  should  Deenan  do  but  crawl  squarely  out, 
like  a cur,  an’  say  he’d  have  nothing  to  do  with  it ! Faith, 
he  flew  the  track  enthirely  ! Phat  sort  of  a fellow  would  ye 
be  afther  callin’  that  in  the  ould  counthry  ? ” 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 


89 


Nothin’  more  nor  less  than  a craven  coward  ! An’  they’d 
expel  him  forever  ! I’d  sooner  be  a rat  nor  such  a man  ! ” 
“You’re  perfectly  right  !”  said  Dormer,  grinning  like  the 
ogre  in  the  fairy  tale.  “ I know  you  wouldn’t  act  that  way! 
The  McKennas,  in  my  part  of  the  country,  were  always  a 
bould  set,  an’  honest  to  the  heart’s  core  ! ” 

Swallowing  this  dose  of  blarney  with  as  good  a grace  as 
possible,  McKenna  asserted  : 

“Thanks  I I’ll  try  in  the  future  to  show  that  I’m  wan  of 
the  rale  ould  sthock  I ” 

At  a late hour  the  landlord  was  much  overcome  with 
drink,  and  when  he  bolted  the  door,  after  McKenna’s 
departure,  he  shouted  through  the  key-hole  : “ Come  agin, 
the  morrow,  ye  thafe  of  the  worruld,  or  I’ll  bate  ye  within  an 
inch  of  your  life  1 ” 

Of  course  McKenna  returned  answer  to  this  delicately- 
conveyed  compliment  that  he’d  “ be  sure  to  do  that  same  I” 
Light  and  elastic  was  the  step,  and  buoyant  and  hopeful 
the  heart  of  the  detective,  that  cloudy  morning,  when  he 
sought  his  pillow  in  widow  O’Regan’s  domicile.  He  had 
now  been  for  some  two  months  in  the  stronghold  of  the 
Sleepers,  or  Mollie  Maguires,  and  labored  hard,  day  as  well 
as  night,  to  reach  his  present  position  of  intimacy  with  men 
prominent  in  the  order.  Success,  he  thought,  was  about  to 
crown  his  efforts. 

A few  days  passed,  during  which  McKenna,  who  had 
purposely  cut  the  acquaintance  of  Jennings  and  been  given 
up  by  that  young  man  as  hopelessly  in  the  snare  set  for  him 
by  Dormer,  was  continually  found  at  the  Sheridan  House, 
gaining  fast  the  reputation  of  an  incorrigibly  hard  case,  but 
a good  singer  and  dancer,  and  jolly  companion,  nevertheless. 
One  day,  in  the  presence  of  one  Arthur  L’Velle,  who  was  a 
Mollie,  according  to  Dormer’s  report,  when  the  detective 
was  bemoaning  his  bad  luck  in  getting  work,  the  tavern- 
keeper  said: 


90 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION. 


‘‘  I have  regard  for  ye,  McKenna,  since  ye  whipped  Frazer 
so  handsomely,  fur  nuthin’  plazes  me  more’n  to  see  a yout’ 
able  an’  willin’  to  put  up  his  hands  and  take  care  of  number 
one!  Now,  L’Velle” — turning  to  that  person — “I’ll  tell 
you  what  sort  of  an  idea  has  just  been  runnin’  through  my 
brain  fur  all  the  world  like  mice  in  a potato-bin.  I’ve 
been  thinkin’  I’d  give  McKenna,  here,  a loud  letter  to  Mike 
Lawler,  of  Shenandoah,  an’  it’s  my  private  opinion  that,  if 
‘Muff’  can’t  get  him  a job,  he  may  hunt  the  mines  over  all 
this  winter  widout  findin’  one  1 ” 

“An’  why  do  ye  call  him  ye  spake  of  ‘Muff’  Lawler?” 
asked  the  stranger. 

L’Velle  answered  : 

“ Because  of  a choice  breed  of  chickens  that  he  raises  ! 
Dormer,  your  thought  is  a happy  one  ! Lawler  is  a leader,  up 
there,  an’  I know  his  friendship  will  in  that  way  be  secured 
— an’  it’s  valuable  to  any  man  1 ” 

“ Yes,”  said  Dormer.  “ Lawler  is  the  big  dog  in  these 
parts  now  ; beside  he  kapes  a good  tavern,  and  wall  see  no 
old-timer,  or  young  one  either,  for  that  matther,  sufferin’ 
from  want  w’hile  he  can  relieve  him  1 ” 

Then  L’Velle  spoke  up  : 

“ If  it  were  not  that  Dormer  and  I are,  for  the  present  time, 
under  a little  cloud,  I,  for  one,  should  insist  that  you  be  fur- 
nished w’ith  a staff  to  guide  your  steps  over  the  mountains 
and  through  the  mines  1 But,  by  going  up  there  and  seeing 
Lawler,  you’ll  soon  be  asw'ell  provided  for  ! I know  Mike’ll 
do  all  he  can  for  you  ! ” 

“ I think  I understand  what  ye  allude  to  ! I shall  be 
greatly  obliged  fur  the  letther  ! An’  as  for  the  other  matter, 
when  I gets  to  Shenandoah,  I can  look  to  it.  But  what  is 
it  I see  in  the  Boston  Pilot  about  the  Bishop  bein’  opposed 
to  us?  Wouldn’t  it  interfere  wid  me  proper  duties  at  the 
church  ? ” 

“ Oh,  bother  1 ” answered  the  landlord,  “that’s  very  aisy  ! 


DORMER  UNDER  INVESTIGATION 


91  • 


Ye  lave  the  body  a while — resign,  ye  see — an’  then  ye  are  all 
right  vvid  the  praste.  If  ye  wants  to  go  back  agin,  who’s  the 
wiser?  Not  the  clergy,  sure  ! But  you  know  all  about  it  ! 
You  are  too  old  a head  not  to  understand.  An’  in  Luzerne, 
I hear,  the  prastes  are  more’n  half  way  favorable  to  us — be 
the  same  token,  more  will  be  afore  many  months  ! Oh,  I can 
tell  you,  it’ll  not  do  ye  the  laste  harrum  in  the  worruld,  an’  it 
may  do  ye  much  good  ! Then,  as  ye  are  an  ‘ old  one,’  we 
wants  ye  in  the  order,  for  it  nades  some  such  to  put  sinse  in 
the  fool-heads  of  the  many  new  and  spooney  boys — an’  there’s 
plinty  of  them,  an’  to  spare  ! ” 

McKenna  promised,  after  some  palaver,  to  think  seriously 
on  the  subject. 

As  the  reader  is  aware — but  as  the  Mollie  Maguires  were 
not  aware — the  detective  was  only  too  anxious  to  place 
himself  within  the  pale  of  the  order ; yet,  when  the  matter 
seemed  so  nigh  accomplishment,  he  believed  it  best  that 
he  move  slowly,  and  it  would  not  do  to  exhibit  too  much 
anxiety.  Great  haste  might  spoil  all  and  end  in  disappoint- 
ment. 

In  about  a week’s  time  from  the  date  of  this  conversation, 
armed  with  a complimentary  letter  from  the  landlord  of  the 
Sheridan  House  to  Lawler,  the  operative  started  for  Shenan- 
doah. At  that  place,  if  anywhere  in  the  mines,  he  made  up 
his  decision  he  would  necessarily  Jocate  his  headquarters. 
There,  if  at  all,  he  must  solve  the  mystery  surrounding  the 
Mollie  Maguires. 


V 


92  FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  HE  HOE  A BLAST, 


CHAPTER  X. 

FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  JACK  KEHOE  A BLAST. 

The  night  before  the  one  on  which  McKenna  had  deter- 
mined to  take  his  departure  from  Pottsville,  while  in  Dormer’s 
saloon,  some  words  passed  and  a quarrel  arose  between  the 
detective  and  a young  person  named  Philip  Nash,  and  the 
drunken  desperado  undertook  the  task,  it  seemed,  of  teach- 
ing the  stranger  some  of  the  tenets  of  the  Molly  Maguires 
by  actual  demonstration.  Whipping  out  his  I’evolver,  he 
made  known  his  intention  of  finishing  him  just  then  and 
there,  and,  had  not  the  operative  been  on  the  alert,  and 
immediately  covered  Nash  with  his  own  weapon,  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  at  least  one  career  of  usefulness  in  the 
mining  region  would  have  met  with  a speedy  termination. 
As  it  transpired,  Nash  appreciated  it  was  life  for  life,  which 
was  far  from  his  sort  of  game,  and  he  waited  action  until 
Dormer,  with  his  powerful  person,  arrived  and  stood  between 
them,  when  he  quietly  lowered  and  put  away  his  pistol, 
McKenna  following  the  example  set,  but  taking  especial 
care  to  have  the  protector  within  ready  reach  of  his  right 
hand. 

“ Phil  Nash  ! ” exclaimed  Dormer,  “ what  is  this  you’re 
afther  doin’  now  ? ” 

“I’ll  whip  this  fellow,  or  me  name’s  not  Nash ! ” was  the 
angry  response. 

“ Two  can  play  at  that  trick  ! ” retorted  McKenna. 

Then  the  combatants  came  together  again,  despite  the 
presence  of  the  big  pacificator,  Nash  aiming  a swinging  blow 
with  his  fist  upon  the  detective,  but  happily  missing  him. 
McKenna  was  more  fortunate.  His  stroke,  full  at  the  side 


FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST.  93 


of  the  face  of  Nash,  hit  the  mark,  stopping  with  force  behind 
his  opponent’s  left  ear,  and  tumbling  him  to  the  floor  as  if 
he  had  been  a felled  ox.  When  able  to  do  so,  he  regained 
his  feet,  and,  for  the  second  time,  essayed  to  draw  his 
revolver  ; but  Dormer,  seizing  both  the  young  man’s  arms, 
held  him  in  a vise-like  grip,  as  a mere  child,  saying  : 

“ No  you  don’t,  Phil!  You’ve  tried  that  once  too  often 
already,  and  I now  recommend  ye  to  drop  the  matther 
directly  1 McKenna,  here,  is  an  old-timer,  an’  was  inside  the 
ring  when  you  were  a wee  gossoon  ! An’  you’re  breakin’  the 
rules  in  attackin’  him  I” 

It  was  strange  to  see  how  quickly  Dormer’s  words  wrought 
a change  in  the  irate  bruiser.  He  released  himself,  promis- 
ing to  obey  the  saloon-keeper,  and,  saying  he’d  make  it  all 
right,  caught  both  of  the  operative’s  hands  in  his  own,  and 
abjectly  begged  to  be  forgiven  for  his  violence. 

“ Sure,  an’  I didn’t  know  ye  wur  wan  of  us  1 ” he  said. 

Of  course  McKenna,  who  was  unhurt,  and  had  not  been 
knocked  down,  could  well  afford  to  be  generous,  and  freely 
forgave  the  miner.  They  exchanged  civilities,  and  drank  a 
noggin  with  Dormer,  to  seal  peace  and  reconciliation. 

During  the  short  walk  to  the  depot,  the  ensuing  day, 
McKenna  was  accompanied  by  Dormer  and  Kelly,  now  his 
warm  and  inseparable  friends.  At  the  train,  the  tavern- 
keeper  took  the  detective  aside,  and  gave  him,  beside  the 
letter  to  Lawler — which  he  had  previously  put  in  his  posses- 
sion— several  separate  slips  of  paper,  bearing  the  names  and 
addresses  of  a number  of  leading  Mollies.-  Among  them  were 
John  Gallagher,  of  Coaldale,  and  John  Mahoney,  alias  the 
Cat,  of  Gilberton.  Each  slip  contained  the  information  that 
the  bearer  was  a particular  friend  of  the  writer,  looking  for  a 
' job  of  work. 

^‘Jist  plaze  to  remember,”  said  the  Pottsville  giant,  “that 
you’re  not  to  brsithe  a blessed  word  to  any  wan,  that  I tould 
ye  a single  point  1 You  see  I’m  out,  at  the  present,  an’  it 


94  FA7VIEK  BRIDGEMAN'  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 


wouldn’t  be  the  right  thing  to  be  makin’  myself  too  forward 
like,  wid  even  an  old  head  in  the  business  ! So,  kape  dark  ! 
None  of ’em  will  refuse  ye  help  in  gettin’  work,  depind  on 
that ! ” 

“I’ll  jist  mind  well  what  ye  say,  an’  many  thanks  for  your 
kindness,  beside  ! ” returned  McKenna,  as  the  bell  struck 
thrice,  warning  passengers  that  the  cars  were  about  to 
move. 

“ Good  luck  to  you,  anyhow ! An’  be  sure  ye  come  to 
my  house  for  your  Christmas!”  were  Dormer’s  parting 
words,  as  he  clasped  McKenna’s  palm  closely.  Dan  Kelly 
was  equally  warm  in  his  requests,  and  profuse  in  regrets 
connected  with  their  separation.  Promising  to  be  back  in 
Pottsville  by  the  holidays,  if  he  could  possibly  make  it  con- 
venient, the  traveler  stepped  aboard  the  coach,  and  sped 
away  on  his  journey. 

The  detective,  thinking  it  inexpedient  to  go  direct  from 
Pottsville  to  Shenandoah,  decided  upon  visiting  some  other 
localities  before  stopping  there.  Perhaps  he  might  secure 
valuable  points  which  would  set  him  before  the  Mollies  in  a 
favorable  light.  He  had,  early  in  the  week,  directed  Super- 
intendent Franklin  to  forward  any  letters  of  his  to  St.  Clair. 
Stopping  over,  therefore,  at  that  town,  he  received  from  tbe 
postmaster  a missive  containing  instructions  to  go  to  some 
of  the  neighboring  places,  and  then  repair  to  Shenandoah. 

He  answered  these,  and  also  wrote  to  Dormer,  saying 
(what  was  not  true)  that  he  had  met  and  agreed  with  a man 

to  work  on  a new  water  basin,  in  the  mountains ; hence  | 

• 

should  slightly  defer  his  visit  to  Shenandoah.  He  also  told  ^ 
the  innkeeper  that  he  need  not  write,  as  it  was  impossible  - 
to  say  where  he  might  remain,  but  agreeing  to  give  him  the  | 
proper  address  as  soon  as  it  could  be  decided  upon. 

The  next  point  to  honor  with  his  presence  was  Girard- 
ville,  where  McKenna  knew  there  were,  many  Mollies. 
Arriving  there,  he  secured  a room  at  a second-class  hotel,  , 


FATHER  BRIDGEMAH  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST.  95 


and  started  out  to  see  the  place.  At  one  of  the  saloons  he 
encountered  a man,  who  was  named  to  him  as  Tom  Durkin, 
alias  Lanky,  a tall,  raw-boned,  ugly-looking  fellow,  who  was 
drinking  very  heavily.  This  i)arty  the  detective  easily  at- 
tached himself  to,' and  soon  learned  that  he  was  about  to  go 
to  Shenandoah,  to  see  some  relatives  and  old-time  associates. 

‘‘  Do  you  chance  to  know  one  Muff  Lawler  ? ” inquired 
the  detective. 

“ Know  him  ? Do  a child  know  its  mother  ? Know  him  ? 
Be  the  staff  of  St.  Patrick,  that  I do  ! Right  well  ! An’ 
are  you  acquainted  wid  him  ? ” 

‘•Not  personally,”  answered  jMcKenna,  “but  I’m  on 
purty  good  terms  wid  Bushy  Deenan,  Capt.  Gallagher,  Dan 
Kelly,  and  more  of  his  friends  in  Pottsville.  An’,  sure, 
they’re  a jolly  crowd  ! ” 

“ Faith,  an’  I’ve  been  in  this  country,  it  war  four  years  last 
Michaelmas,  an’  never  met  their  equals,  nowhere  ! An’  you 
knows  that  set  do  ye  ? ” 

Lanky  shook  hands  with  the  detective,  making  much  show 
of  pleasure,  and  put  his  right  forefinger  to  the  right  side  of 
his  face  in  a peculiar  style,  at  the  same  time  watching  the 
movements  of  his  companion.  Then  he  asked  : 

“ Do  you  know  anything  about  it  ? ” 

“ Not  just  at  present,”  responded  McKenna,  “ but  in  the 
old  times  I was  well  posted  ! ” 

Of  course  this  was  enoiigh  for  Durkin.  They  were  com- 
panionable, fraternal,  convivial,  and  thus  traveled  about  the 
town  together.  Lanky  introducing  his  new  friend  to  all  his 
associates  as  “a  fine  chip  of  the  old  block,”  or  employing 
words  of  a similar  significance.  • Finally,  it  was  with  some 
difficulty  that  McKenna  shook  him  off,  late  in  the  day,  and, 
pleading  business  as  an  excuse,  left  him  to  finish  his  spree 
solitary  and  alone. 

Here  was  another  point  gained  by  McKenna.  One  of  the 
latest  signs  of  recognition  of  the  Sleepers,  or  of  some  simi- 


g6  FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 


lar  society,  was  in  his  possession.  But  he  did  not  dare  to 
use  it,  well  remembering  an  unpleasant  episode  previously 
occurring  to  him  at  Pottsville.  On  that  occasion,  having 
encountered  Fenton  Cooney,  a miner  from  VVadesville, 
at  Dormer’s,  he  was  spoken  of  as  an  ancient  Mollie — 
Cooney  being  actually  what  the  detective  assumed  to  be, 
and  a sharp  one  at  that.  Cooney  at  once  proceeded  to 
test  the  new-comer,  who,  fortunately,  was  acting  as  though 
greatly  intoxicated.  Quickly  apprehending  that  he  was 
no  match  for  the  inquirer,  from  the  direction  that  his 
questions  took,  he  imbibed  a stiff  glass  of  grog  at  the  bar, 
with  his  interviewer,  and  shortly  thereafter  fell  over  on  a 
bench  and  immediately  passed  into  a state  of  semi-uncon- 
sciousness, from  which  even  Dormer  himself,  by  a powerful 
shaking,  failed  to  arouse  him.  Cooney  was  very  angry,  and 
told  the  innkeeper  that  he  had  a notion  to  kick  the  drunken 
man — drunk  only  in  simulation — from  the  house.  Dormer 
proved  a friend,  and  insisted  that  it  was  all  a mistake  ; there 
was  no  doubt  in  his  mind  of  the  man’s  former  membership  ; 
but  he  was  a victim  of  liquor — which  was  his  only  noticeable 
failing — and,  if  taken  when  duly  sober,  he  had  faith  that 
Cooney  would  recognize  him  as  all  he  represented  himself 
to  be.  Some  things  he  had  forgotten,  it  was  true,  but  he 
remembered  enough  to  satisfy  him  that  he  was  all  right. 
Cooney,  not  so  easily  deluded,  roundly  swore  that  he  could 
never  believe  the  stranger  a true  friend  until  he  produced 
his  clearance  card  from  the  body  to  which  he  had  belonged. 
Escaping  so  narrowly  from  this  impending  trap,  the  detec- 
tive was  more  careful  thereafter.  Evidently^  he  must  see 
clearer  and  travel  further  before  successfully  imposing  upon 
well-informed  Sleepers.  It  proved  also  quite  fortunate  that 
he  cut  adrift  from  Lanky,  as,  before  night,  that  besotted  indi- 
vidual found  himself  under  arrest  for  an  aggravated  assault 
upon  a man  who  had  indiscreetly  spoken  against  the  Mollies 
in  his  presence. 


FATHER  BR/DGEiMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST.  9/ 


It  was  the  middle  of  December,  1873,  that  the  detective 
made  his  in  the  pleasanf  little  town  of  Girardville. 

One  of  the  first  persons  for  him  to  meet  was  Pat  Birmingham, 
a school-teacher,  who  addressed  him  : 

“Stranger,  didn’t  I see  you,  a few  days  ago,  at  Dormer’s 
place,  in  Pottsville  ? ” 

“ Faith,”  responded  McKenna,  “ ye  did  that  ! I remim- 
ber  ye  perfectly  ! I wor  just  a little  under  the  influence,  on 
that  occasion.  An’  it’s  that  way  I am  much  often er  than  is 
good  for  me  moral  char^z^rter  ! But  I’m  jist  reformin’  a bit 
now — by  the  same  token,  will  ye  have  a sup  wid  me  ? — I’m 
flush,  an’  don’t  mind  tratin’  ! ” 

“I  don’t  care  if  I do  have  a taste,”  answered  the  school- 
master. 

During  their  trip  to  a saloon  where  the  pedagogue  said 
they  kept  the  best  Irish  whiskey  in  town,  McKenna  gave  out 
that  he  was  just  in  receipt  of  his  pension  from  the  govern- 
ment, granted  him  on  account  of  wounds  he  had  suffered 
from  while  serving,  under  Commodore  Davis,  on  the  flag-ship 
Blackhawk,  at  the  capture  of  Memphis,  in  1862.  And  it  was 
well  taken  by  Birmingham,  as  was  the  liquor,  when  they  had 
found  it.  McKenna  managed  to  water  his  portion  consider- 
ably, so  that  its  effect  upon  him  was  not  noticeable. 

“ I suppose  from  the  company  I found  you  in  at  Pottsville,” 
said  the  teacher,  “ that  you  are  an  Ancient  ! ” 

“ An’ phat  is  that  ? ” 

“ A Mollie  Maguire  ! ” 

“ Sure,  an’  you’re  wrong  there  ! That  is  a thing  I’ve  heard 
of,  but  know  nothin’  about.” 

“ Just  the  way  with  all  of  them  ! I believe  if  I asked  Pat 
Dormer,  he’d  deny  being  a member,  point  blank  ! It’s  all 
right,  though  ! P2very  man  to  his  faith  ! But  I’ve  known 
some  who  are  Mollies  and,  at  the  same  time,  quite  decent 
people  and  honorable  citizens.  Now  there’s  Jack  Kehoe, 
for  example,  in  the  tavern  over  the  way.  He’s  the  most 

5 


98  FATHER  BRIDGEMAH  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 


Staunch  man  in  the  business,  but,  for  all  that,  a very  good 
neighbor,  an’  I never  saw  liiin  drunk  in  my  life,  or  beating 
anybody,  inside  or  outside  his  saloon.  That  you  can’t  say  of 
everybody,  Mollie  or  not  Mollie  ! ” 

'•I  have  heard  of  Kehoe,”  said  McKenna,  “but  I have 
not  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance.  Before  I lave  the 
borough,  1 mane  to  give  him  a call.  Still,  1 wants  ye  to 
understand  that,  tho’  rough-appearin’,  an’  given  to  rather 
hard  company.  I’m  not  quite  a Mollie  Maguire  ! ” 

This  was  thrown  out  as  possibly  suggestive  to  the  citizen 
that  he  invite  him  into  Kehoe’s  ; also,  by  denying  all  knowl- 
edge of  the  society,  to  cause  the  hearer  to  more  firmly 
believe  in  his  membership.  Birmingham  did  not,  or  would 
not,  take  the  hint,  and  neglected  to  ask  the  new-found  friend 
across  to  see  Kehoe,  but,  as  had  been  intended,  he  did  gain 
strength  in  the  idea  that  McKenna  was  connected  with  the 
mysterious  brotherhood.  Some  further  talk  ensued,  when 
the  men  separated,  the  pedagogue  to  attend  to  his  pupils, 
and  the  operative  to  pursue  his  investigations. 

The  afternoon  of  the  following  day  McKenna  left  his 
hotel,  fully  determined  to  secure  an  acquaintance  with  Jack 
Kehoe.  The  weather  was  stormy,  business  dull,  and  he  would 
probably  find  a number  of  men  congregated  in  the  tavern. 
Kehoe’s  residence — the  Hibernian  House — which  is  expected 
to  play  an  important  part  in  the  pages  of  this  work,  was 
and  still  is  a two-story  frame  building,  situated  convenient  to 
business,  not  a great  distance  from  the  Catholic  church  in 
Girardville.  Having  its  gable  to  the  street,  and  a single 
square  window  at  either  end,  directly  beneath  the  peak  of 
the  roof,  the  usual  su[)ply  of  casements  and  doors  for  a 
structure  of  the  size,  and  painted  a dull,  red  color,  on  the 
ground  floor,  front,  was  the  bar-room,  and  in  the  rear  of  that 
the  kitchen.  From  the  latter  apartment  a staircase  gave 
access  to  the  living  rooms  of  the  family  in  the  story  above, 
d'here  was  also  a door  from  the  bar,  leading  to  the  cook’s 


Kchoes  Res  idem 


1' 


FATBER  BRWGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST.  99 


domain.  Throughout  the  interior  the  arrangements  for  occu- 
pation were  of  a comfortable  but  inexpensive  character,  and 
everything  was  cared  for  in  a manner  evidencing  the  capacity 
of  Mrs.  -Kehoe,  in  the  ro/e  of  housekeeper,  as  better  than 
ordinary.  It  was  also  reported  in  the  town  that  she  was  the 
sharper  member  of  the  hymeneal  firm,  and  fully  in  accord 
with  her  husband  on  the  Mollie  Maguire  question.  She 
probably  approved  his  membership,  not  because  of  any  par- 
ticular bloodthirstiness  in  her  disposition,  but  because  the 
affiliation  brought  money  to  their  family  purse  and  politically 
elevated  Jack  Kehoe. 

Kehoe,  as  the  operative  had  already  heard,  was  a native 
of  the  city  of  Wicklow,  Ireland,  some  twenty-seven  miles 
from  Dublin,  and  a man  of  but  common  education.  His 
wife  had  been  a Miss  O’Donnel,  of  Mahanoy.  Their  fam- 
ily consisted  at  the  time  of  five  children. 

When  the  detective  entered  the  saloon,  he  found  several 
miners  within,  clad  in  their  holiday  suits,  showing  that  they 
had  not  been  working  that  day,  or  were  on  the  night  shift. 
The  proprietor  of  the  place,  in  person,  was  behind  the 
counter,  evidently  in  good  humor,  and  everything  passing  to 
his  satisfaction.  McKenna  stepped  modestly  to  the  bar, 
ordered  a drink,  swallowed  it,  paid  the  reckoning,  and  then 
occupied  a seat  on  a bench,  while  he  filled  and  smoked  his 
short  pipe.  Some  pleasant  words,  dropped  to  a man  near 
him,  regarding  the  weather,  were  answered  cheerfully,  and 
soon  the  conversation  took  a wider  range,  engineered  by  the 
new  arrival,  and  culminated  in  that  person’s  second  call  at 
the  bar  to  inquire  of  Kehoe  as  to  the  prospect  for  work 
brightening  up,  and  asking  about  the  chances  for  a stranger 
getting  employment.  Kehoe  responded  quietly,  without  a 
very  pronounced  brogue  : 

“Well,  times  are  rather  hard  here  at  present,  but  there’s 
a show  of  their  soon  mendin’.  I hear  that  some  collieries 
now  lying  idle,  are  to  begin  operations  in  a short  time.  If 


100  FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 


they  do,  then  more  hands  will  be  needed.  Perhaps  some  of 
the  men  here  may  know,  better  than  I,  the  opportunities  for 
immediate  jobs.  They  are  mostly  miners.  I say,  Mike,” 
turning  to  the  man  McKenna  had  previously  been -speaking 
to,  “is  there  a show  for  work,  fora  stranger,  that  you  know 
about  ? ” 

“ Shure,  an’  I don’t  mind  me  of  any  ! But  some  one 
else  may ! ” 

And  Mike,  as  he  was  called,  with  several  others,  came  up 
to  the  bar,  as  if  willing  to  be  consulted.  McKenna,  there- 
upon, acting  as  he  seemed  to  be  called  upon,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, very  promptly  set  forward  drinks  for  all,  which 
Kehoe  prepared  and  the  company  disposed  of  with  evident 
relish.  The  general  expression,  however,  was  that  the 
operative  would  hardly  be  able  to  secure  a job  until  more 
collieries  commenced  active  work. 

While  Kehoe  stood  concocting  the  different  beverages, 
the  detective  embraced  the  opportunity,  without  appearing 
to  do  so,  of  observing  the  man  more  minutely.  He  was 
seemingly  two  or  three  years  past  forty,  but  time,  in  his 
flight,  had  been  lenient,  and  left  few  noticeable  traces  upon 
his  countenance.  There  were  some  impressions  of  crow’s 
feet  at  the  outer  corners  of  his  small,  sharp,  light-blue  eyes, 
occasionally  a gray  hair  among  the  plentiful  brown  ones  of 
his  head  and  in  the  equally  dark,  full  whiskers  and  mustache. 
The  beard  was  noticeably  lighter  in  color  at  the  far  ends,  as 
though  somewhat  faded.  The  eyes  were  set  too  close  toge- 
ther to  give  a square,  honest  look  to  the  face,  as  a whole, 
which  was  slightly  cadaverous  in  appearance.  The  nose, 
unnaturally  sharp,  as  though  pitted  by  small-pox,  assisted  in 
• forming  for  Kehoe  a fox-like  and  cunning  look,  and  the 
forehead  was  straight  and  reasonably  high.  It  was  the  im- 
pression of  McKenna  that,  if  Kehoe  should  ever  get  others 
into  a difficulty,  he  would  probably  manage  to  keep  out  of 
it  himself.  He  was  athletic,  erect,  and  could  hold  his  own 


FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST.  lOI 


in  a crowd,  but  did  not  seem  inclined  to  quarrel,  or  risk  his 
person  too  rashly  in  an  encounter  from  which  ingenuity  could 
extricate  him.  Not  above  medium  height,  or  weight,  his 
shoulders  were  square  and  strong,  and  his  limbs  muscular 
and  well  proportioned.  His  hands,  which  had  seen  labor, 
now  looked  fair  and  white.  Generally  agreeable  in  manners 
to  strangers  as  well  as  acquaintances,  he  claimed  a number 
of  friends,  yet  no  really  warm  and  devoted  personal  followers. 
Formerly  a miner,  the  tavern  }'>roving  more  profitable  and 
less  laborious,  he  had  of  late  years  done  very  little  manual 
labor.  Whisky-selling  and  politics  were  giving  him  plentiful 
money  and  power,  and  he  liked  both  exceedingly  well. 

McKenna’s  proffered  treat  had  touched  the  feelings  of 
Kehoe  in  a tender  place,  favorably  introduced  him  to  a por- 
tion of  the  Girardville  community,  and  it  was  not  so  very 
long  before  he  was  on  the  best  of  terms  with  all  in  the  house. 
Finally  finding  that  his  reputation  in  that  line  had  preceded 
him,  and  having  been  invited  to  do  so,  he  was  prevailed  upon 
to  strike  up  a song,  and  gave,  without  accompaniment, 
“ Larboard  Watch,”  followed  soon  by  “ Kathleen  Mavour- 
neen.”  At  the  request  of  a native  of  Scotia  present,  he  then 
sung,  in  fair  voice  and  accent,  the  “ Collier  Laddie,”  by 
Burns,  beginning  : 

“ Where  live  ye,  my  bonnie  lass  ? 

An’  tell  me  what  they  ca’  ye  ; 

‘ My  name,’  she  says,  ‘ is  Mistress  Jean, 

And  I follow  the  collier  laddie. 

My  name,’  she  says,  ‘is  Mistress  Jean, 

And  I follow  the  collier  laddie.’  ” 

This  particularly  pleased  the  miners,  one  of  whom  felt  so 
merry  over  the  strain  that  he  called  up  the  crowd  and  pro- 
posed a toast  to  “Bobby  Burns,  Mistress  Jean,  and  the 
stranger  singer.”  It  was  drank  with  highest  honors,  and 
then  the  landlord  could  do  no  less_  than  follow  suit.  This 
business  was  kept  up  until  nearly  night. 


102  FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 

AVhen  the  hangers-on  had  dropped  off,  one  by  one,  to  their 
homes,  Kehoe  stepped  from  the  bar,  sat  down  by  the 
stranger’s  side,  and  showed  himself  unusually  communicative. 
He  ended  by  calling  McKenna  to  the  counter  and  drinking 
a toast,  which,  from  its  sound  and  sentiment,  he  was  positive 
must  have  been  a Mollie  signal ; but  the  detective  knew  too 
well  the  result  to  try  a response,  and  contented  himself  with 
drinking  it  in  silence.  Kehoe  went  further  and  gave  him 
the  identical  sign,  with  the  hand  to  the  face,  which  he  had 
noticed  I.anky  using  the  day  before.  To  this  also  McKenna 
remained  blind.  He  was  not  to  be  caught. 

“ 1 see  that  you  know  nothing  at  present,”  said  Kehoe 
at  last. 

“ Faith,  an’  that’s  exactly  true  for  ye,”  responded  the  de- 
tective. “ It’s  a very  long  time  since  ever  I was  within.” 

“ That  makes  no  difference,  for  I am  also  an  old-timer, 
dating  back  to  ’66.” 

And  Kehoe  peered  suspiciously  at  the  stranger  from  his 
half-shut  eyes,  while  he  awaited  some  identifying  movement 
or  word  from  McKenna. 

Here  was  more  trouble.  Another  Ancient  had  been  en- 
countered who  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  It  was  no  longer 
stolid  Pat  Dormer  who  stood  before  him. 

“Now  for  it,”  thought  the  bothered  detective.  “ Deil  a 
thing  have  I to  trate  him  wid,  barrin’  some  balderdash  that 
I gave  in  Pottsville,  an’  which  I’m  positive  ’ll  not  fool 
Kehoe.” 

Once  again  fortune  favored  him.  At  this  very  opportune 
moment  a man  from  Pittsburg,  called  by  the  saloon-keeper 
Tim  Gallagher — a traveling  liquor  dealer,  opened  the  door, 
entered,  and  greeted  Kehoe  as  an  old  acquaintance.  He 
was  introduced  to  McKenna,  who  was  treated  by  Kehoe 
and  his  friend  as  a true  Ancient  Order  man,  and  informed 
that  the  last  arrival  was  at  the  head  of  the  society  in  Pitts- 
burg. Several  other  persons  now  coming  in,  Kehoe  forgot  all 


FATHER  BRWGEMAN  GIVES  HE  HOE  A BLAST.  IO3 


about  his  investigation,  and  the  operative  was  very  far  from 
giving  him  any  hint  to  return  to  it.  Just  before  supper-time, 
Gallagher,  Kehoe,  and  McKenna — who  that  day  by  chance 
wore  his  Sunday  suit  of  clothes,  the  weather  being  too  cold 
for  his  first  costume — all  sallied  forth,  leaving  the  tavern  to 
the  charge  of  Mrs.  Kehoe,  to  make  a few  informal  calls  upon 
city  friends  and  companions.  Gallagher,  as  they  walked, 
enlightened  his  co-member  upon  the  condition  of  the  order 
in  Western  Pennsylvania.  He  said  the  part  of  country 
named  was  full  of  the  spirit  of  the  order,  and  they  had  every- 
thing their  own  way,  the  clergy  being  with  them  very 
cordially,  if  not  inside  the  ring.  During  their  round  they 
stopped  at  the  house  of  the  resident  Catholic  clergyman, 
Fathex  Bridgeman,  who,  despite  his  many  and  violent  de- 
nunciations of  the  Mollies,  was  a personal  friend  of  Galla- 
gher. After  the  usual  greetings  the  Pittsburg  man  asked  the 
priest,  jokingly  : 

‘•Have  you  ceased  scolding  the  Sleepers  yet  ? ” 

“ No,  I have  not  !”  said  the  clergyman,  “^and  never  shall 
while  they  remain  as  they  are.” 

“ Why  is  it  that  the  Church  in  this  part  of  the  State  acts 
so  differently  in  this  regard  from  the  Catholics  in  Pitts- 
burg ? ” 

“ The  cases  materially  differ,”  answered  the  priest,  warm- 
ing up  quickly.  With  you,  in  the  west,  the  members  have 
something  like  friendship  for  one  another,  and  the  order  is 
not  managed  in  the  interest  of  politicians,  tavern-keepers, 
and  other  bad  men.  Here  it  is  in  the  control  of  a few  un- 
scrupulous fellows,  who  care  not  for  God  or  man,  only  for 
themselves  and  their  own  pockets.  Yet  they  call  themselves  ^ 
Irishmen  ! They  can  sneak  around  and  whip  and  kill  some 
unfortunate  person — some  mining  boss,  or  superintendent, 
or  destroy  property,  thus  scandalizing  those  in  the  Church 
of  the  same  nativity — but  they  do  not  dare  to  turn  out  in 
regalia  on  St.  Patrick’s  day,  with  honest  Irishmen,  for  then 


104  FATHER  BRIDGEMAN  GIVES  KEHOE  A BLAST. 


they  would  be  known  and  marked  for  the  murderers  and 
assassins  they  are.  Oh,  it’s  a bad,  bad  society  ! A wither- 
ing curse  rest  upon  it,  and  upon  all  in  any  way  connected 
with  it ! ” 

The  priest  evidently  felt  every  word  that  he  said,  and, 
though  one  of  the  most  generous  of  men,  could  find  no  good 
language  to  waste  uj)on  the  Mollie  Maguires. 

Kehoe  listened  to  the  denunciation,  his  head  slightly 
bowed,  but  said  nothing  in  reply.  The  color  of  his  face 
changed  a little  and  his  lips  quivered  perceptibly,  yet  no 
words  escaped  him.  Gallagher  spoke  evasively,  and  the 
detective  remained  silent.  After  some  talk  over  other  and 
more  pleasant  matters,  the  party  took  leave  of  the  priest. 
He  made  no  excuse  for  his  harsh  language.  He  believed 
that  it  had  been  deserved,  and  had,  therefore,  nothing  to 
take  back.  In  the  streets  Kehoe  maintained  a moody 
silence.  His  small  eyes  wandered  from  object  to  object, 
however,  resting  on  nothing  long.  He  was  wounded  by 
the  imprecations  of  his  clergyman,  yet  could  find  no  means 
of  escaping  their  weight.  Gallagher  and  McKenna  endeav- 
ored to  rally  his  sunken,  sullen  spirits,  but  in  vain.  Up  to 
the  time  of  their  separation  he  seldom  spoke.  Excusing 
himself,  the  operative  returned  to  the  hotel  for  supper,  and 
spent  the  evening  writing  in  his  bedroom.  After  sealing  his 
report  and  preparing  for  an  early  start  for  Shenandoah — 
where  he  determined  to  go  at  once  and  encounter  the  lion, 
Lawler,  in  his  native  jungle — he  retired  to  his  bed  and  wooed 
repose. 


7vitJu  r2ug  curse  rest  upon  ami  tipon  all  in  any  7oay  eonnccted  with  it.' 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAMAQUA.  IO5 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAMAQUA. 

Taking  cars  over  the  Shamokin  branch  of  the  Philadel- 
phia and  Reading  road,  the  ensuing  morning,  McKenna 
started  for  his  destination  ; but,  overhearing  a conversation 
occurring  in  the  seat  before  his  own,  between  two  rough- 
looking men  who  boarded  the  train  at  a station  not  far  from 
Shenandoah,  during  the  course  of  which  he  learned  that 
Muff  Lawler  had  gone  on  a short  visit  to  some  friends  in 
Pottsville,  he  concluded  it  would  be  best  to  shun  the  local- 
ity for  the  present  and  proceed  at  once  to  Tamaqua,  a city 
that,  thus  far,  he  had  devoted  very  little  attention  to.  When 
the  train  stopped,  therefore,  at  the  point  named,  he  took  up 
his  satchel — having  left  the  remainder  of  his  baggage  at  the 
hotel  in  Girardville — alighted  at  the  depot,  and,  proceeding 
at  once  to  the  Columbia  House,  which  he  had  understood 
from  Dormer  was  frequented  by  the  Mollie  Maguires  when 
visiting  the  city,  secured  a room  and  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  innkeeper,  named  Marks.  Although  by  this 
time  somewhat  accustomed  to  rough  society  and  unruly 
transactions,  he  soon  acquired  the  information  that,  of  all 
the  cities,  towns,  and  villages  he  had  seen  in  Pennsylvania, 
to  Tamaqua,  at  that  date,  must  be  awarded  the  palm  for 
holding  prominence  in  these  particular  characteristics.  It 
appeared  to  be  the  centre  of  attraction  for  a flock  of  unem- 
ployed stragglers,  discharged  men  from  adjacent  collieries, 
tramps,  and  other  reprobates.  Liquor  flowed  unrestrainedly, 
and  was  largely  consumed  in  the  various  saloons  and  taverns. 
A storm  of  wind,  rain,  and  sleet  prevailed,  and  the  streets 
wore  a deserted  appearance,  while  the  grog-shops  and  gam- 

5* 


I06  A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAM  AQUA. 


bling-rooms  were  all  crowded  and  in  full  blast.  There  were 
other  disturbing  elements  at  work  in  the  community,  one 
being  the  strike  of  the  miners,  which  had  just  been  inau- 
gurated. A basis  for  the  settlement  of  differences  existing 
between  the  proprietors  and  the  employes  of  collieries,  had 
only  recently  found  the  miners  prepared  with  a prompt  neg- 
ative, and,  without  some  agreement — and  that  seemed  far 
away — not  a man  among  the  laborers  would  dare  begin  oper- 
ations. Hence  idleness  prevailed — “ an  idle  brain  is  the 
devil’s  own  workshop,”  in  the  coal  regions  as  elsewhere — and 
bad  habits,  bad  deeds,  were  among  the  results  accompany- 
ing this  unsatisfactory  state  of  affairs.  While  some  of  the 
miners  had  gone  elsewhere,  seeking  jobs  for  the  winter — a 
portion  to  Luzerne,  and  others  to  Columbia  County — there 
were  many  who,  having  families  and  homes  thereabouts  de- 
manding attention,  yet  remained,  waiting  for  some  change  to 
better  their  condition, 

Tamaqua  was  filled  with  excited  men  and  exciting  whisky. 

Not  long  after  reaching  the  city,  who  should  present  him- 
self to  McKenna’s  notice  but  the  identical  Dan  Kelly,  left, 
not  so  long  before,  in  Pottsville  ; the  man  who  became  his 
friend,  and  who,  somewhat  earlier,  had  backed  Fighting  Frazer 
in  his  contest  in  Dormer’s  house.  Of  course  they  expressed 
themselves  as  mutually  glad  to  see  each  other.  The  opera- 
tive explained  to  Kelly  that  the  party  for  whom  he  was  to 
have  worked  in  the  mountains,  on  the  mythical  water  basin, 
was  found  to  be  a first-class  deception  ; and,  leaving  him  in 
disgust,  he  had  visited  the  adjacent  country  in  search  of 
work.  All  of  this  Kelly  received  with  perfect  faith  in  its 
truth,  however  untruthful ; and  that  personage  told  the 
detective,  in  turn,  that  he  was  more  fortunate,  having  ob- 
tained a paying  job  at  Boston  Run  Colliery,  less  than  two 
miles  from  the  borough  of  Tamaqua.  In  fact,  the  reason -of 
his  visit  to  town  that  day  was  to  buy  a suit  of  shifting  clothes. 

Kelly  at  once  insisted  that  the  operative  should  accompany 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAM  AQUA. 


10/ 


him  to  a saloon  and  partake  of  something  warm  and  stimu- 
lative. This  constituted  an  invitation  not  easily  refusable 
under  the  circumstances.  It  was  accepted,  and  the  drinka- 
bles enjoyed.  After  this,  and  following  some  talk  about 
mining  and  acquaintances  in  Pottsville,  the  detective  went 
with  Kelly  to  the  train,  and  saw  him  safely  off  for  home. 
Kelly  had  remarked  that  Tamaqua  was  no  place  for  men  like 
himself  and  companion,  as  there  were  no  friends  in  the  town, 
the  nearest  being  at  Old  Mines,  some  five  miles  distant. 
Occasionally  a few  straggling  brothers  accidentally  convened 
at  some  tavern  in  Tamaqua,  but  no  regular  organization  had 
ever  commenced -or  been  maintained  in  the  city;  several 
times,  however,  the  thing  had  been  started,  and  as  often 
fallen  through. 

Upon  returning  to  the  Columbia  House,  and  while 
partaking  of  supper,  McKenna  was  accosted,  in  a friend- 
ly way,  by  a man  who  had  been  introduced  to  him  as 
Gillespie  : 

“ Are  you  posted  as  to  the  standing  in  the  community  of 
the  man  with  whom  I just  saw  you  at  the  depot — I mean  the 
one  carrying  the  bundle  on  his  arm  ? ” 

“An’  why  not?”  answered  the  detective,  still  maintaining 
more  of  the  brogue  than  was  natural  for  him.  “ Why  not  ? 
Do  I know  Dan  Kelly  ? Sure  an’  I lately  made  meself  a 
companion  of  his,  at  Pat  Dormer’s  place,  in  the  borough  of 
Pottsville.  An’  didn’t  he  back  Fighting  Frazer  agin  me  fur 
the  first  bit  of  a scrimmage  I ever  enjoyed  in  Schuylkill 
County  ? That  he  did  ! An’  he  war  gentleman  enough  not  to 
harbor  malice  agin  me  ! On  the  conthrary,  I flatter  meself 
that  he  an’  I are  rather  warrum  friends  at  the  prisent  mo- 
ment ! What  should  I be  inquarin’  as  to  his  char<7irter  for  ? 
He’s  all  correct,  isn’t  he?” 

“ Manus  has  been  very  unfortunate.” 

“Manus  who?” 


“ Manus  Kull,  sure  ! ” 


I08  A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAM  AQUA. 

‘‘  Manus  Kiill  ? Is  that  the  name  ye  give  the  person  I saw 
off  on  the  train,  bey  ant  ? ” 

“ Certainly  ! That’s  his  name  ! ” 

“Well,  Mr.  Gillespie,  I hev  regard  for  ye,  but  must  say 
that  ye  labor  under  a mistaken  idea  ! It  war  Dan  Kelly,  a 
miner — an’  he  has  work  not  so  far  from  this  town — that  I saw 
to  the  train  the  day  ! ” 

“ Oh,  I know  what  I am  talking  about ! ” said  Gillespie,  a 
little  nettled  by  McKenna’s  unbelief.  “ He  is  Manus  Kull ! 
I insist  upon  that,  say  what  you  may  ! Haven’t  I known  him 
since  he  was  knee  high  to  a rabbit?  and,  sorry  I am  to  say 
it,  since  he  came  to  the  age  of  maturity  it  is  very  little  I’ve 
learned  to  his  credit.” 

“Kelly’s  the  name  I’ve  always  heard  him  called — Dan 
Kelly,  at  that — an’  sure  I didn’t  take  him  for  wan  of  those 
havin’  occasion  to  dale  in  double  names  an’  deceptions !” 

“ He  is  none  other  than  Manus  Kull ; tho’  since  his 
troubles  he  may  have  adopted  some  other  man’s  name,  hav- 
ing doubly  dishonored  his  own.  And,  what  is  more  to  the 
purpose  in  my  speaking  with  you,  to  put  you  on  your  guard, 
lest  you  make  an  intimate  associate  of  him,  to  my  certain 
knowledge  he  has  served  a term  of  three  years  in  Luzerne 
County  jail  for  biting  off  a man’s  ear,  in  the  course  of  a 
rough-and-tumble  fight,  at  the  town  of  Wilkesbarre.  And 
upon  one  court-day  there  were  not  less  than  eight  or  nine 
warrants  out  and  in  the  hands  of  officers  for  his  arrest,  for 
offenses  ranging  all  the  way  from  assault  and  battery  to  bur- 
glary and  highway  robbery.  He  has  broken  his  poor  moth- 
er’s heart,  has  Manus  Kull ! ” 

The  talk  continued  in  this  strain  for  some  moments, 
during  which  the  detective  learned — as  before  he  had  more 
than  half  suspected — that  Kull,  alias  Kelly,  was  only  one 
among  many  hard  cases  usually  congregating  at  the  Sheridan 
House.  Expressing  some  surprise,  however,  that  he  should 
be  thus  misled,  he  continued  his  meal  in  silence. 


h'en?ui  saying  he  had  some  experience  i)i  the  surgical  line,  volunteered  to  d:ess  naugho  td 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAMA  QUA. 


109 


I 


During  the  same  evening  two  miners,  named  Miillhearn  and 
McGinly,  arrived  at  the  hotel  from  the  neighborhood  of 
Mauch  Chunk,  both  in  a state  of  semi-intoxication  and  ready 
for  any  sort  of  adventure  that  might  come  within  reach.  The 
large  bar-room  gradually  filled  with  people.  Finally  the  two 
strangers,  concluding  a deal  of  loud  talk  plentifully  inter- 
spersed with  oaths,  managed  to  get  up  a wrestling  match  in 
the  apartment,  a ring  being  cleared  for  the  purpose.  Then  all 
was  noise  and  confusion.  Some,  not  particularly  interested 
in  manly  sports,  were  engaged  in  drowning  sorrow,  from  lack 
of  work,  in  deep  potations  at  the  bar.  Others  sat,  nodding 
stupidly  in  their  chairs.  After  a protracted  struggle,  in 
which  several  heavy  falls  were  given  and  received  on  either 
side,*  Mullhearn  was  fairly  thrown,  his  antagonist  coming 
down  upon  him  with  great  force,  and  McGinly  declared  the 
victor.  The  result  of  this  decision  was  the  formation  of  two 
parties  in  the  assemblage,  a McGinly  party  and  a Mullhearn 
party ; this  culminated,  as  might  have  been  expected,  in 
the  usual  Kilkenny  fight,  in  which  all  participated,  battering 
skulls,  blacking  eyes,  breaking  noses,  and  spoiling  counte- 
nances generally.  During  the  prevalence  of  this  hurly-burly, 
one  Dougherty,  who  commanded  a crowd  of  roughs  like 
himself,  and  who  was  affected  more  than  those  about  him  by 
the  liquor  he  had  drank,  pulled  out  a pistol  and  commenced 
discharging  it  into  the  walls,  ceilings,  floors,  counters,  or 
whatever  eligible  objects  he  chanced  to  see.  Fortunately, 
the  supply  of  cartridges  was  quickly  exhausted  and  nobody 
hurt  except  the  ruffian  himself.  One  of  the  missiles  from  his 
weapon,  rebounding  from  the  hard  wood  of  the  counter,  came 
back  with  force,  striking  Dougherty  in  the  left  hip,  inflicting 
a painful  but  not  deadly  wound.  The  shooting  had  been  in 
sport,  and,  the  practical  joker,  having  received  merited  re- 
ward for  his  ghastly  jest,  the  disturbance  was  quieted,  and 
while  his  injury  was  examined  almost  silence  reigned. 
McKenna,  saying  he  had  some  experience  in  the  surgical  line. 


I 10 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAM  AQUA. 


volunteered  to  dress  Dougherty’s  hurt.  His  navy  service  was 
again  alluded  to.  and,  as  there  was  no  doctor  nigh,  the  duty 
finally  devolved  upon  him  of  staunching  the  blood  and  binding 
up  the  injury.  A little  whisky  and  water,  properly  applied, 
soon  performed  the  first,  and  a keen  pen-knife  quickly  laid 
bare  the  bullet,  wliich  had  not  penetrated  deeply,  and  it  was 
deftly  extracted  by  the  fingers.  Then  more  whisky  and 
water  cleansed  the  hurt,  while  a plaster  was  procured  from  a 
neighboring  drug-store,  ai)plied,  and,  the  patient,  feeling  quite 
easy,  before  the  borough  police  had  discovered  who  had 
done  the  shooting,  Dougherty  resumed  his  carousal  with 
his  associates. 

Marks,  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel,  was  able  to  breathe 
more  freely  when  the  Dougherty  crowd  vacated  the  premises. 
McKenna  earned  many  plaudits  from  Dougherty’s  friends 
for  the  skill  he  had  exhibited  in  amateur  surgery,  but  Dough- 
erty himself  said  that  he  had  cut  him  more  and  deeper  than 
necessary,  and  he  would  never  forgive  him  for  it.  Unrea- 
sonable as  this  certainly  was,  his  followers  earnestly  endeav- 
ored to  convince  the  drunken  fellow  of  his  error,  but  the 
liquor  in  him  had  turned  his  brain,  and  it  is  presumable  that 
he  might  have  sought  to  punish  the  detective,  who  had  as- 
sisted to  preserve  his  worthless  life,  had  not  others  prevailed 
upon  him  to  defer  it  until  the  morrow,  and  finally  succeeded 
in  coaxing  and  dragging  him  off  to  another  tavern.  In  a 
short  time  he  was  as  drunk  as  ever.  Some  of  the  Dougherty 
crowd  said  if  they  ever  wanted  a doctor  they  “ would  send 
for  that  fellow  just  from  the  Rocky  Mountains.” 

As  much  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  intoxicated  men  as 
from  any  other  reason,  McKenna,  the  hour  still  being  early, 
left  the  bar-room  and  hunted  up  Pat  Nolan,  to  whom  he  bore 
a letter  from  Dormer,  finding  the  man  soberly  at  his  home. 
Nolan  read  the  epistle  and  said  he  was  happy  to  meet  any 
friend  of  Dormer,  but  was  sorry  to  say  that  work,  for  the 
present  at  least,  was  simply  out  of  the  question.  They  had 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAMA  QUA.  Ill 

some  quiet  games  at  cards,  and  passed  a couple  of  hours 
pleasantly,  when  the  detective  bade  all  good-night,  and,  at 
about  eleven  o’clock,  went  back  to  the  Columbia  House. 
Before  midnight,  leaving  the  place  well  filled  on  the  ground 
floor,  he  retired  \o  his  bed — but  not  to  sleep,  as  fate  or  cir- 
cumstance ordained.  Too  much  noise  rang  upon  his  drowsy 
ear  to  make  slumber  possible.  He  had  been  between  the 
sheets,  tossing  uneasily  from  side  to  side  and  enjoying  such 
brief  intervals  of  repose  as  he  could  catch  betwixt  waves  of 
uproar  and  riot  rising  from  the  depths  beneath  him,  during  a 
couple  of  hours,  perhaps,  when  there  was  a resounding  rattle 
at  his  chamber  door.  Without  moving,  he  asked,  in  no  pleas- 
ant tone  : 

“‘Who  the  divil’s  there  ? ” 

The  answer  was  not  particularly  reassuring  : 

“We  want  to  get  in!”  said  somebody  in  a thick,  gruff 
voice. 

McKenna  quickly  appreciated  the  fact  that  Dougherty 
and  his  unruly  crew  were  looking  for  him. 

“ Go  away,  an’  don’t  bother  me  I ” shouted  the  operative. 
But  this  had  no  qther  effect  than  to  increase  the  force  that 
some  person  was  exerting  upon  the  bolts  of  the  bedroom 
door.  Visions  of  sanguinary  Mollie  Maguires,  and  an  un- 
pleasant feeling  that  they  might  possibly  have  penetrated 
his  disguise,  discovered  his  deception,  flitted  through  his 
weary  brain.  But  instantly  dispersing  all  such  thoughts  as 
mere  dreams — 


“ Interludes,  which  Fancy  weaves 

When  the  monarch,  Reason,  sleeps” — 

he  leaped  from  the  bed,  making  considerable  stir,  lighted  a 
lamp,  and  said,  in  a loud,  determined,  and  unfaltering  voice : 
“Now,  get  away  out  of  that,  ye  spalpeens,  or  I’ll  jist  blow 
the  head  off  some  of  yez  1 ” 


1 12 


A KILKENNY  AFFAIR  AT  TAMA  QUA. 


The  shaking  of  the  lock  soon  ceased,  and  the  steps  of 
several  persons  were  heard  retreating.  Once  more  seeking 
his  pillow,  the  weary  man  endeavored  to  obtain  some  repose. 
But  in  a little  while  he  again  distinguished  the  stealthy  fall 
of  human  feet  nigh  the  entrance  of  his  apartment.  Dough- 
erty, for  the  second  time,  was  trying  to  force  admission  to 
his  presence. 

“ We  must  get  in  ! ” exclaimed  the  drunken  man. 

Exasperated  at  this  long-continued  annoyance,  McKenna 
turned  out,  struck  a light,  donned  a portion  of  his  garments, 
suddenly  unlocked  and  opened  the  door,  and  brought  the 
forbidding,  dark  muzzle  of  his  heavy  seven-shooter  plump  in 
Dougherty's  face,  demanding  his  business  with  him  at  such 
an  hour  and  such  a place.  Hesitating  somewhat,  and  dodg- 
ing his  head  from  side  to  side  to  escape  McKenna’s  aim,  he 
faltered  out  : 

“ I can’t  find  me  partner  ! Didn’t  know  but  he  might  be 
in  this  room  ! ” 

“ I don’t  know  anything  about  your  partner,  if  you  have 
wan,  an’  I give  ye  due  notice  that  I’ve  had  plenty  and 
to  spare  of  you  an’  your  eternal  racket  ! So  get  out  of  this, 
quick  1 An’  don’t  ye  come  banging  about  here  any  more  ! 
Sure,  an’  if  ye  do.  I’ll  make  serious  trouble  wid  ye  ! ” 

Perfectly  quieted  down  by  the  pistol,  the  detective’s  un- 
daunted front  and  resolute  language,  Dougherty  and  his 
companions  took  themselves  off,  invoking  anything  but  com- 
pliments upon  the  man  who  had  sent  them  away  so  uncere- 
moniously. Again  McKenna  extinguished  his  lamp  and 
courted  repose.  Fora  short  time  he  slept  fitfully  and  ill  at 
ease,  but,  about  an  hour  before  daylight,  he  was  aroused  by 
sounds  of  a desperate  row  in  progress  below  stairs.  Pistol- 
shot  after  pistol-shot  echoed  along  the  corridors  and  through 
the  rooms,  making  the  hearer  think  that  a small  army  of 
bushwhackers  were  attacking  the  house,  and  practising  to 
see  how  many  bullets  they  could  lodge  in  the  weatherboard- 


MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE.  1 13 


ing.  He  finally  started  up,  unable  longer  to  bear  the  con- 
fusion, and,  after  putting  on  his  clothing,  took  the  light  in 
his  left  hand,  and  with  the  right  resting  on  the  butt  of  his 
revolver,  which  he  held  ready  for  immediate  use,  in  his  out- 
side coat  pocket,  noiselessly  opened  the  door,  made  his  exit, 
and  moved  toward  the  supposed  scene  of  conliict.  Not 
much  accustomed  to  the  sense  of  fear,  the  detective  thought, 
as  he  bent  his  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  warfare,  and  as 
the  jar  and  other  evidences  of  deadly  strife  smote  more 
clearly  upon  his  ear,  he  really  experienced  a feeling  akin  to 
that  of  a soldier  when  receiving  the  “ baptism  of  fire”  upon 
his  initial  battle-ground.  At  least  there  was  a queer  creep- 
ing of  the  flesh,  a chilly  blast  over  his  back  and  shoulders,  a 
novel  rising  up  of  the  scalp,  as  he  entered  the  dark,  deserted 
bar-room,  and  still  heard,  as  though  in  the  distance,  the  rattle 
of  small  arms.  The  fight  was  evidently  losing  none  of  its 
intensity.  “ Perhaps  it  has  been  transferred  to  the  kitchen 
or  dining-room,”  he  thought.  It  must  be  in  one  or  the 
other,  and  in  which  he  could  noj;  decide.  Upon  opening 
the  entrance  of  the  latter  place,  however,  the  mystery  was 
quickly  solved,  and  a strange  spectacle  presented  itself  to 
his  vision. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 


Before  him  was  the  long,  low,  dark  dining-room,  only  a 
small  portion  of  which,  at  one  extremity,  was  illuminated 
by  a single  tallow  candle,  trussed  to  the  wall  with  an  old, 


I 14  MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 


rusty,  bone-liancllcd  fork,  and  the  flaring  lamp  held  over  his 
own  head.  On  a line  with,  and  at  one  end  of  the  deal  table, 
•which  extended  nearly  from  one  side  of  the  apartment  to 
the  other,  and  at  a place  properly  described  as  the  head  of 
the  board,  were  grouped  in  deep  shadow,  only  broken  by 
fitful  flashes  from  McKenna’s  light,  a number  of  men,  all 
sporting  revolvers,  rapidly  loading  and  firing,  without  regard 
to  order  or  regularity,  at  the  target — a rough,  white  hat, 
loosely  nailed  to  the  partition  not  far  from  the  candle. 
Every  member  of  the  reckless  gang  was  more  or  less  intoxi- 
cated. Among  them  the  spectator  saw  several  of  Dougher- 
ty’s friends,  but  the  leader  himself  had  been  put  in  bed — 
otherwise  under  the  dresser — about  an  hour  earlier,  and 
there  he  reposed,  his  uncovered  head — rough,  long-haired, 
and  pallid  as  to  face — supported  on  the  bent  right  arm,  as 
helpless  as  an  infant  and  almost  as  still  as  a stone  model  of 
the  spirit  that  he  evidently  worshipped — Bacchus. 

“ Halloo  ! here’s  the  docther  !”  exclaimed  a short,  ruf- 
fianly fellow,  wearing  a huge  fur  cap,  thrown  backward 
from  his  forehead,  showing  his  front  hair,  black,  short,  and 
stiff,  and  holding  in  his  hand  a revolver  full  half  a yard  long, 
which  he  had  just  discharged  a dozen  times  at  the  mark  with- 
out once  coming  within  the  length  of  his  weapon  of  hitting 
it.  “ Halloo  ! Give  the  docther  a chance  ! ” 

“ Yes  ! Give  us  a taste  of  your  marksmanship  ! ” said  the 
frightened  publican,  who  had  remained  with  his  gentle  and 
lamb-like  patrons  to  protect  his  furniture  as  well  as  he  could 
and  prevent  the  wild  madcaps  from  firing  the  building  in  the 
course  of  their  innocent  gambols.  As  it  was,  the  thin  barrier  ; 
of  plank,  separating  the  dining-room  from  the  kitchen,  was 
thickly  perforated  with  black  apertures,  ranging  from  the 
size  of  a pea  to  that  of  a musket  bullet.  Luckily,  at  that 
hour  of  the  morning,  no  person  was  employed,  or  chanced 
to  be  in,  the  culinary  department  of  the  house,  and  hence  1 
injury  to  life  and  limb  had  not  resulted  from  the  careless  I 


'‘Aizcf  there  he  reposed,  his  iincovered  head  rough,  long-haired  and  pallid  as  to  face,  supported  on 

his  bent  ris[ht  armP 


MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE.  Il5 


use  of  fire-arms.  The  wall  only  was  shattered,  and  it,  while 
made  of  wood  and  neatly  covered  with  light  paper,  bore  the 
appearance  of  having  been  irregularly  pierced  with  innu- 
merable circular  openings  for  purposes  of  ventilation. 

Promptly  accepting  the  invitation,  as  he  was  certainly  in 
for  it  by  reason  of  his  appearance  on  the  spot,  the  de- 
tective deliberately  raised  his  pistol,  and,  in  rapid  succession, 
fired  two  shots,  both  of  which  struck  the  target  near  its 
centre. 

“ Bedad  ! He’s  as  good  at  firing  bullets  as  he  is  cuttin’ 
them  out  of  wounds  ! ” shouted  the  individual  with  the  fur 
cap,  putting  away  his  pistol.  “ Pie’s  bate  the  best  shot ; an’ 
now  1 move  that  we  quit,  before  the  policeman  comes  an’ 
interferes  wid  our  little  divarsions  ' ” 

The  suggestion  was  taken  advantage  of  by  Marks,  the 
guttered  candle  extinguished,  and,  headed  by  the  operative, 
all  made  their  devious  way  to  the  bar-room,  where,  from  the 
reason  of  his  close  firing,  McKenna  was  informed  he  would 
be  expected  to  stand  treat.  This  he  willingly  did,  and  the 
men — excepting  such  as  were  found  physically  unable — soon 
began  to  disperse.  The  few  remaining  were  disposed  of  as 
expeditiously  as  possible,  some  in  bed-rooms,  and  others  in 
seats  beside  the  fire,  where  they  would  be  in  no  danger  of 
freezing  to  death.  Then  the  -disgusted  landlord  and  the 
worn-out  detective  retired  to  their  respective  apartments. 
McKenna  gained  his  bed,  prepared  for  a nap,  while  the  sun 
was  ushering  in  another  day. 

As  a natural  consequence  of  passing  such  a horrible  night, 
the  agent  slept  late,  and  it  was  near  dinner-time  when  he 
arose  greatly  refreshed.  The  same  day  he  received  a line 
from  John  Deenan,  “ Bushy,”  in  response  to  one  he 

had  previously  sent  the  tavern-keeper.  As  Deenan’ s epistle 
forms  a portion  of  this  eventful  history — although  its  author 
has  long  since  been  gathered  to  his  fathers — it  is  printed  in 
full,  as  follows  : 


Il6  MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 

PoTTSViLLE,  Jan.  19,  1874- 

DEAR  Sir: — I received  your  welcome  letter,  which  gave 
me  a great  deal  of  pleasure.  I was  glad  to  hear  from  you. 
I have  written  to  Alex.  Campbell  to  inform  you  of  what  is 
going  on  there,  so  you  can  go  to  him  and  he  will  tell  you  all 
about  it.  He  lives  at  the  upper  part  of  Tainaqua.  He 
keeps  a tavern.  We  are  all  well  at  present. 

Yours  truly, 

John  Deenan. 

This  presented  an  opportunity  for  forming  the  acquain- 
tance of  Campbell,  which  the  sojourner  in  the  land  of  the 
Mollies  was  not  slow  to  embrace,  immediately  calling  at  the 
locality  indicated.  He  was  cordially  received  by  the  land- 
lord, who  was  a tall,  bony,  angular-shaped  personage,  dark 
of  hair,  moustache  and  imperial,  sharp  of  eye,  the  forehead 
being  rather  low  and  straight,  the  nose  long,  sharp,  high- 
bridged,  and  with  a curved  indenture  either  side  of  the  arch. 
His  age  might  have  been  forty  years.  His  wife  and  several 
children  formed  the  entire  family.  All  united  to  make  the 
honored  guest  welcome  during  the  remainder  of  that  day. 
Campbell  was  found  a sharp,  shrewd  man,  and  fully  aware 
of  his  consequence  in  the  order.  He  said  that  Bushy 
Deenan  had  advised  him  of  McKenna’s  intended  arrival, 
but,  under  the  circumstances,  he  could  not  see  how  he 
would  be  able  to  accomplish  his  wishes  in  securing  employ- 
ment. Should  .work  be  resumed,  he  would  gladly  do  all  in 
his  power  to  find  a place  for  him,  or  say  or  do  anything 
where  his  influence  would  be  for  his  visitor’s  advantage.  As 
concerned  any  other  business  toward  which  Deenan  might 
have  hinted,  he  could  only  refer  him  to  Muff  Trawler,  who 
had  all  such  matters  in  charge.  After  a pleasant  season, 
and  carrying  with  him  rather  more  liquor  than  he  felt  abso- 
lute need  of,  McKenna  returned  to  the  Columbia  House  in 
time  for  supper.  There  he  met,  for  the  first  time,  one 


MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE.  II/ 


Christopher  Donnelly,  fated  subsequently  to  be  associated 
with  some  of  the  chief  actors  in  my  narrative,  a leading 
Mollie,  and  at  the  time  ostensibly  engaged  in  preparing  ban- 
ners and  regalia  for  the  Brotherhood,  to  employ  in  the 
approaching  celebration  of  St.  Patrick’s  day,  when  the 
Mollies  proposed  publicly  appearing  in  the  procession  with 
the  Benevolent  and  other  Catholic  societies.  Donnelly  was 
a man  of  ordinary  appearance,  above  thirty  in  years,  having 
lightish  brown  hair,  with  mustache  of  the  same  color,  light 
eyes,  and,  as  he  stood,  the  detective  estimated,  about  five 
feet  seven  inches  in  height.  His  features  were  thin  and 
small,  but  not  unhandsome,  the  face  having  disfiguring  marks 
of  coal  and  powder,  showing  that  he  had  followed  tlie  busi- 
ness of  mining.  He  was  married,  and  the  father  of  a family. 
After  four  years’  service  in  the  army,  he  came  out,  at  the 
end  of  the  war,  with  a fair  record  for  bravery  and  good  con- 
duct, McKenna  was  of  the  opinion  that  Donnelly  was  in 
some  way  connected  with  the  treasurership  of  the  society’s 
funds.  He  was  soon  on  intimate  terms  with  the  stranger, 
and  the  friendly  feeling  was  strengthened  when  McKenna 
informed  him  of  his  service  in  the  United  States  Navy.  Not 
too  communicative,  crafty,  calculating,  and  fairly  educated  in 
the  common  English  branches,  Donnelly  was  somewhat  above 
the  average,  in  the  way  of  intelligence,  among  miners.  He 
departed  by  the  early  train  for  his  home  at  Mt.  Laffee. 

The  detective  now  thought  it  time  that  he  turned  toward 
Shenandoah.  He  therefore  took  his  baggage  to  the  depot 
and  procured  a ticket  for  that  place.  Bidding  the  few 
friends  he  had  made  at  Tamaqua  farewell  for  the  present, 
he  mounted  the  smoking-car  and  soon  afterward  found  him- 
self in  the  then  hot-bed  and  grand  centre  of  the  Mollies  for 
Schuylkill  County.  Framing  the  usual  excuse,  that  he  ‘was 
looking  for  a job  in  some  colliery,  he  managed  to  extract 
the  information,  without  exactly  making  inquiries,  that  Law- 
ler was  still  absent  in  Pottsville  and  not  likely  to  return  for 


Il8  MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 


several  days.  He  at  once  determined  to  go  there  and  make 
the  gentleman’s  acquaintance,  if  possible,  in  Dormers  saloon, 
where  he  knew  he  would  be  surrounded  by  true  and  faithful 
friends.  The  weather  was  freezing  cold  and  he  would  have 
a good  reason  to  urge  for  the  short  journey,  in  that  his  ward- 
robe sadly  needed  replenishing.  An  overcoat  and  some 
other  articles  of  comfort  were  in  pressing  demand.  Conse- 
quently he  remained  in  Shenandoah  but  a few  hours,  going 
by  the  next  train  to  Pottsville.  It  was  not  long  before  he 
was  again  at  the  Sheridan  House,  in  company  with  his 
former  companion  and  fellow  Mollie,  big,  smiling,  ugly  Pat 
Dormer.  The  innkeeper  was  so  highly  elated  to  once  more 
behold  McKenna,  that  he  quickly  entered  upon  a grand 
spree,  that  bid  fair  to  last  him  a week,  during  which  time  he 
would  do  little  more  than  guzzle  whisky  and  beer  and  sound 

high  the  praises  of  the  “ d st  best  Irishman  in  the  whole 

of  Schuylkill  County,”  as  he  frequently  designated  his  partic- 
ular friend  from  Denver.  Without  appearing  too  deeply 
interested,  the  detective  discovered  that  Lawler  was  yet  in 
Pottsville  and  habitually  frequenting  certain  bar-rooms  more 
industriously  than  seemed  exactly  incumbent  upon  a per- 
fectly sober  citizen.  Hence  he  waited  the  time  when  he 
should  arrive  at  Dormer’s  house. 

It  was  Wednesday,  the  twenty-first  of  January,  that  the  de- 
tective encountered  the  object  of  his  secret  search,  Michael 
Lawler,  upon  entering  the  Sheridan  House,  after  breakfast. 
Lawler  was  deeply  in  his  cups  thus  early  in  the  day,  yet 
sufficiently  sober  to  walk  erect  and  know  exactly  what  he 
was  about.  It  was  cloudy,  rough,  and  stormy  outside,  and 
the  sort  of  day  well  calculated  to  tempt  men  to  seek  com- 
fortable corners.  A number  of  prominent  and  active  Mollies 
were  in  Dormer’s  place,  with  Lawler,  when  McKenna  made 
his  appearance  there.  He  recognized,  in  the  man  he  had 
been  looking  for,  a rather  prepossessing  personage,  some- 
thing past  forty  in  years,  above  medium  height,  heavily  but 


MCKENiVA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE.  I I9 


not  clumsily  built — yet  more  fleshy  than  the  generality  of 
miners — with  black  hair  and  heavy  side  whiskers  of  the  same 
dark  color,  the  chin  being  shaven ; eyes  a deep  hazel,  and 
withal,  “Muff”  was  slightly  bald  at  the  crown  of  the  head. 
His  cheeks  wore  a ruddy  and  healthful  look,  and  the  skin 
was  fair  and  clear.  As  McKenna  subsequently  learned,  Law- 
ler claimed  a wife  and  six  children,  the  oldest  of  the  offspring 
a girl  of  eighteen,  and  the  youngest  a boy  past  three  years 
of  age.  He  was  quite  pleasant  in  manner,  free-spoken,  and 
used  a noticeable  shade  of  Irish  accent.  He  bore  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a steadfast  friend,  as  well  as  a relentless  but 
not  subtle  enemy.  His  absorbing  passion  was  cock-fighting, 
and  a rare  breed  of  game  chickens,  which  he  raised  and  bet 
upon,  called  mufflers,  gave  him  the  sobriquet.,  among  his 
intimates,  of  “Muff”  Lawler.  A practiced  miner,  strong, 
able-bodied  and  industrious,  he  usually  obtained  work  at 
some  of  the  collieries  if  such  a thing  was  to  be  had  in  the 
vicinity. 

Upon  the  introduction  of  the  detective  to  Lawler,  by 
Dormer,  which  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  grim  giant’s 
most  fascinating' style,  the  Shenandoah  man  remarked  : 

“ I’m  plazed  to  meet  you,  Mr.  McKenna ! Through 
your  friend,  and  mine,  Pat  Dormer,  I’ve  heard  about  you, 
and  begun  to  wonder  where  you  were  taking  yoursel’  to — had 
expected  to  see  you  at  my  house  in  Shenandoah  !” 

“ Bad  scran  to  me,  but  I’m  glad  that  I’ve  come  up  wid  ye  ! ” 
replied  McKenna ; “an’  I’m  just  from  your  town,  where  I 
stopped  only  a few  hours.  As  work  war  dull  there'  an’  I had 
no  frien’s,  you  bein’  away,  I jist  rode  over  here  to  take  another 
glass  wid  Dormer,  an’  who  should  I run  right  forninst  but 
the  very  person  I have  wanted  to  see  ! I shall  only  buy  my- 
self some  warmer  clothes  an’  then  go  straight  back  to  Shen- 
andoah, where,  if  I can  get  work,  an’  a dacent,  comfortable 
boardin’ -place,  I propose  stopping  most  of  the  winter — that 
is,  providin’  some  swate  frien’s  of  mine,  who  are  mighty 


120  MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 

pressin’  in  their  attentions,  but  that  I don’t  crave  to  see  jist 
at  this  present  moment,  may  not  come  afther  me  sooner. 
Av  coorse  I shall  attind  church  while  I’m  here,  as  it  may  be 
me  last  chance  for  some  length  of  time  ! ” 

“An’  I can’t  do  that  same  ! ” said  Lawler,  with  some  regret 
in  his  voice,  “ for  I am  too  deeply  in  somethin’  of  which  the 
clergy  disapprove!  I’m  fixed  about  as  high  in  that,  however 
as  they  make  them  in  the  county ! I suppose  that  Dormer 
has  given  ye  that  information  already  ? ” 

“ Yes  ! I have  heard  as  much  I ” 

“ By  the  same  token  1 ” here  interrupted  Dormer,  “ I sint 
a bit  o’  letther  to  ye,  Mike,  by  McKenna,  an’  now  that  he’s 
met  you,  sure,  the  line  will  be  of  no  use  ! ” 

“That’s  so  I ” said  Lawler.  “ It’ll  be  all  the  same  ! Any 
friend  of  yours — any  old  head  especially — will  be  sure  to  meet 
a warm  welcome  at  mv  house  I ” 

Here  one  of  the  men  forming  the  company  directed 
Lawler’s  attention  to  an  article  in  the  daily  Standard,  stating 
tliat  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company 
was  about  to  bring  five  thousand  raw  men  into  the  county 
to  work  their  mines.  Lawler  was  very  much  interested  in 
this,  and 'read  the  entire  extract  aloud,  commenting  upon  the 
same  : 

“ I’m  a man  of  learning,  I am,  have  some  small  sense, 
and  know  a little  of  what’s  going  on  in  this  region  of  country, 
and  I can  tell  you  all  that,  if  Mr.  Gowen,  President  of  the 
Philadelphia  and  Reading  Company,  undertakes  to  do  any- 
thing like  what  this  piece  in  the  paper  sets  forth,  in  place  of 
having  the  State  Militia  here  to  protect  his  men  in  the 
mines,  and  keep  his  breakers,  shafts,  and  depot  buildings 
from  the  torch,  it’ll  take  all  that  force  and  all  his  time  and 
skill  to  protect  his  own  life  ! ” 

“ That’s  so  ! That’s  so  ! ” was  the  hearty  response. 

I look  a person  in  the  eye,  myself,  an’  I know  in  wan 
single  moment  whether  I spake  to  a true  man  or  not ! ” 


MCKENNA  MEETS  A MORNING  ADVENTURE.  121 


“ I admire  yoiir  courage  an’  ability,  Mr.  Lawler,”  said 
McKenna,  “an’  I’m  of  the  opinion  that  Mr.  Gowen — if  that 
be  his  name — will  think  over  it  a long  while  afore  he’ll 
trust  a force  of  raw  men  in  his  mines  ! At  any  rate,  he’ll 
soon  see,  if  he  tries  it,  that  such  a thing  will  not  work  in  this 
country.” 

This  agreement  with  the  boys  gave  McKenna  standing 
with  them  at  once. 

The  subject  was  discussed  at  length  by  all  hands,  and  the 
universal  opinion  was,  if  the  Company  tried  to  butt  against 
the  society,  the  society  would  soon  show  the  management  of 
the  railway,  and  the  coal  organization,  of  what  kind  of  metal 
it  was  composed. 

During  the  ensuing  day  Lawler  was  more  sober,  and,  say- 
ing that  he  had  already  been  too  long  from  home,  made  prep- 
arations for  an  immediate  return  to  Shenandoah.  Before 
leaving,  however,  he  very  cordially  invited  McKenna  to  call 
when  he  reached  his  locality,  saying  : 

“I’ll  make  you  as  safe  and  secure  as  you  can  be  any- 
where ! ” 

From  this  significant  remark  the  detective  inferred  that,  as 
he  had  all  along  intended  he  should.  Dormer  had  given  a 
hint  to  Lawler  that  the  stranger  was  a hard  case  generally, 
and  engaged  in  concealing  himself  from  certain  officials  in 
Western  New  York,  who  were  in  search  of  him  for  having 
tilled  a man  in  Buffalo  a year  or  so  before.  It  was  more 
than  probable  that  his  reputation  as  a dealer  in  counterfeit 
money  had  also  been  discussed  by  the  same  worthies. 

“ I’ll  accept  your  offer  wid  pleasure,”  answered  McKenna, 
“ an’  I think  it’ll  not  be  many  days  before  you’ll  see  me  face 
in  Shenandoah  ! I believe  it’ll  be  just  the  place  for  me  ! ” 

The  detective  and  Dormer  attended  Lawler  to  the  cars 
and  bid  him  good  luck  on  his  journey. 

After  I.awler’s  departure  time  hung  rather  heavily  upon 
tile  agent’s  hands.  He  had  nothing  particular  to  attend  to 
6 


122  MCKENNA  MEEl'S  A MORNING  ADVENTURE. 


that  was  of  importance  in  his  calling,  excepting  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  as  many  Mollies  as  possible,  impress  on 
the  mind  of  Dormer  the  necessity  of  covering  his  tracks 
from  the  New  York  detectives,  and  secure  the  names  of 
such  persons  as  would  be  likely  to  listen  to  propositions  con- 
nected with  his  counterfeit  currency  schemes.  He  pre- 
tended that  he  might  soon  have  a supply  to  be  disposed  of. 
Dormer  would  sit  for  hours  in  his  chair,  when  customers 
were  not  plentiful,  and  drink  in,  with  open  eyes  and  gajhng 
mouth,  the  wonderful  tales  the  detective  related  of  his 
strange  adventures  in  foreign  lands,  the  different  people 
seen,  and  the  narrow  escapes  he  had  made  from  capture  and 
drowning  while  in  the  naval  service.  The  little  trouble  ex- 
perienced with  another  man  in  Buffalo,  in  which  his  antago- 
nist chanced  to  be  killed,  was  often  repeated,  with  such  em- 
bellishments as  his  inventive  genius  supplied.  Once  in  a 
while  he  would  exhibit  a genuine  bank-bill  and  tax  Dormer’s 
acuteness  of  vision  to  the  utmost  in  finding  out  the  difference  * 


between  it  and  those  he  knew  to  be  genuine  issues  of  the 
same  bank.  He  was  hardly  able  to  distinguish  the  peculiar 
secret  mark  which,  McKenna  sagely  told  him,  “ spotted  the 
‘ flimsy  ’ as  of  the  sort  called  ‘ queer.’  ” That  it  was  spuri- 
ous, however,  was  evident,  from  the  fact  that  the  exhibitor 
said  he  could  “ sell  any  needed  quantity  of  similar  bank- 
notes at  the  exceedingly  low  rate  of  forty  cents  on  the 
dollar.”  His  word  was  not  to  be  doubted. 

“For  the  life  of  me,  I can’t  see  why  it  is  not  of  the 
genuine  issue  ! ” Dormer  would  remark,  with  a puzzled 
look  on  his  naturally  sardonical  face.  “ I’m  no  bocaun^ 
as  you’re  aware,  but  may  I niver  die  till  I see  me  own 
funeral,  if  the  wan  bill  isn’t  every  bit  as  good,  to  me,  as 
t’other ! ” 

“ Faith,  an’  wan  is  jist  as  good  as  the  other,”  McKenna 
would  reply,  sotto  voce^  “for  two-thirds  of  all  them  bills  is  as 
false  as  Sam’s  masther — the  devil — but  don’t  say  a word 


I 


MCICENNA  MEETS  A MORNIN'G  ADVEJ^TURE,  12^ 


about  it  ! As  long  as  the  paple  don’t  know  the  truth, 
where’s  the  difference  ? ” 

Of  course  the  detective  never  kept  a dollar  of  spurious 
money  in  his  possession,  never  intended  to,  and  never  per- 
mitted himself  to  be  drawn  into  any  sales  of  that  whicli  he 
had- given  out  as  bad.  It  was  sufficient  for  him  if  he  made 
his  companions  believe  that  he  was  driving  a profitable  busi- 
ness selling  the  stuff,  and  further,  that  he  was  in  regular 
receipt  of  a pension  from  the  government,  to  account  for 
getting  on  in  the  world  without  much  work,  and  at  the  same 
time  appearing  to  have  plenty  of  funds  for  his  personal 
wants.  This  he  managed  to  do,  for  Dormer  told  several 
cronies,  and  they  spread  it  among  the  Mollies. 

While  McKenna  was  in  Pottsville  on  this  occasion — about 
the  24th  of  January,  1874 — transpired  news  of  the  murder, 
at  Miner’s  Hill  Gap,  of  a man  named  Bradley.  The  infor- 
mation reached  him  through  the  columns  of  a newspaper. 
He  at  once  determined  to  go  to  Shenandoah,  see  Lawler, 
and  find  out,  if  possible,  whether  the  Mollie  Maguires  were 
the  perpetrators  of  the  deed.  He  waited  until  the  close  of 
the  Mission  in  the  church,  and  then,  on  the  twenty-ninth  of 
the  month,  prepared  to  leave.  Dormer,  who  had  recovered 
from  his  debauch,  with  a sober  face  informed  the  detective 
that,  hereafter,  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  secret 
societies,  intended  faithfully  to  perform  all  his  church  duties, 
and  in  fact  become  a better  man  than  he  had  ever  been 
before.  He  advised  the  trip  to  Shenandoah,  and  said,  when 
once  there,  Lawler  would,  if  he  so  desired,  make  him  all 
.right  in  the  society.  It  was  Saturday,  the  31st  of  January, 
that  McKenna  found  himself,  for  the  second  time,  in  the 
handsome  city  of  Shenandoah.  If  he  should  now  prove  suc- 
icessful,  it  would  not  be  so  long  before  he  would  see  the 
[inside  workings  of  the  Mollie  Maguires. 


124 


MUFF  LAWLER  AT  HOME, 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


MUFF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


The  day  following  the  one  on  which  he  arrived  in  Shenan- 
doah was  the  Sabbath,  and,  believing  Lawler  would  be 
unemployed,  McKenna  put  in  an  early  appearance  at  that 
gentleman’s  house.  The  landlord  was  apparently  much  grat- 
ified to  meet  him.  After  a number  of  calls  to  the  bar — for 
only  a portion  of  which  the  detective  was  allowed  to  disburse 
his  money,  the  remainder  coming  as  so  many  warm  expres- 
sions of  good-will  from  the  proprietor  of  the  place — McKenna 
threw  out  some  feelers  which  brought  up  a discussion  of  the 
circumstances  attending  the  Bradley  homicide.  Lawler 
spoke  of  the  affair  with  apparent  frankness,  but  could  not,  or 
would  not,  make  even  a guess  as  to  who  had  prompted  or 
committed  the  crime.  Not  desiring  to  push  the  subject,  and 
saying  carelessly  that  “ possibly  the  man  merited  all  he  had 
received  ” — to  which  insinuation  the  saloon-keeper  made  no 
direct  or  audible  response — the  subject  was  dropped,  and  the 
conversation  turned  upon  other  things.  Lawler  affected  to 
have  known  nothing  about  the  case  until  he  saw  a statement 
of  it  in  the  Shenandoah  Herald^  and,  as  that  paper  was  bit- 
terly opposed  to  the  Mollie  Maguires,  of  course  he  was  not 
exactly  prepared  to  credit  everything  appearing  in  its  col- 
umns. 

In  a few  hours  the  stranger  was  invited  to  partake  of  dinner 
with  the  family.  He  accepted,  of  course,  and  received  an 
introduction  to  Mrs.  Lawler  and  the  children.  Knowing  how 
to  make  himself  agreeable  to  the  mother,  he  praised  her 
child,  said  he  had  her  eyes,  etc.,  and  concluded,  after  the 
meal,  by  swinging  the  boy  upon  his  knee,  and  singing  a simple 


c 


at 

CO 

do 


MC/FF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


125 


refrain  which  amused  him  greatly.  Lawler  and  his  wife  were 
pleased  with  the  attention  paid — even  by  this  apparently 
rough,  uncouth  wanderer — to  their  youngest,  and  soon  them- 
selves became  more  communicative.  In  fact,  Lawler,  as  far 
as  he  was  concerned,  needed  no  farther  argument  than  his 
record  as  a jolly,  good  fellow,  the  least  bit  tempered  with  ras- 
cality, as  obtained  from  Pat  Dormer,  to  induce  him  to  feel 
kindly  toward  McKenna.  Mrs.  Lawler  was  accustomed  to 
think  much  as  her  husband  did  in  most  matters,  and  she,  true 
woman  that  she  was,  looked  with  the  eye  of  friendship  ui:)on 
him.  How  greatly  these  first  impressions  upon  both  sides 
influenced  acts  and  events  which  followed,  the  careful  reader 
will  be  able  to  determine.  It  is  sufficient  now  to  say  that  the 
traveler  had  praised  Mrs.  Lawler’s  progeny,  gaining  a wel- 
come seat  in  the  family  circle,  and  was  certainly  better  pleased 
with  the  company  than  with  any  he  had  enjoyed  since  leaving 
Philadelphia. 

Lawler  informed  his  friend  that  he  would  do  all  he  could 
to  secure  employment  for  him  in  the  mines,  but,  should  he 
succeed,  the  wages  would  be  low,  at  the  highest  not  above 
ten  dollars  a week,  and  the  labor  severe.  He  must  naturally 
begin  at  the  bottom  round  of  the  ladder,  and  gradually,  if  at 
all,  rise  in  the  scale  to  the  rating  of  a miner.  It  required 
time  and  hard  work  to  reach  that  position.  The  place  of 
“butty,”  or  helper,  even,  was  not  so  very  easy  of  acquire- 
ment. McKenna  here 'put  forward  the  idea  that  he  was 
accustomed  to  manual  labor — which  was  not  exactly  the 
truth,  though,  in  the  old  country,  he  once  worked  on  a farm, 
and  had  his  muscles  hardened  by  considerable  out-door  exer- 
cise. Some  years  had  elapsed,  however,  since  his  hands 
were  employed  in  real  toil  and  he  had  earned  his  bread  by  the 
sweat  of  his  brow.  Still,  he  expressed  his  willingness  to  try, 
and  said  that  he  would  accept  anything  yielding  him  a decent 
Icompensation,  his  principal  object  being — as  Lawler  had 
^oubtless  been  informed  by  Dormer — to  remain  perdu^  out  of 


126 


MUFF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


sight  and  quiet  like,  until  certain  ]->eople  should  lose  all  trace 
of  him.  He  believed,  he  told  Lawler,  in  a whisper  intended 
to  impress  the  hearer  that  there  was  a mystery  surrounding 
him,  that  the  depths  of  a slope  and  miner’s  attire,  with  the 
grime  and  dust  incident  to  delving  in  a colliery,  would  about 
as  effectually  cover  him  from  the  pursuit  of  those  so  anxious 
to  come  up  with  him,  as  anything  in  the  way  of  disguise  he 
could  wear,  or  any  calling  he  could  engage  in.  Muff  coin- 
cided in  this  opinion. 

I>awler’s  residence,  in  which  the  detective  was  making 
himself  (juite  at  home,  was  and  is  a respectable  but  unpre- 
tentious wooden  structure,  painted  outside  of  a brown  color, 
and  two  stories  in  height  above  a low  basement.  In  the 
front  part  of  the  first  floor  was  the  usual  bar-room,  the 
counter  extending  across  the  northern  side  of  the  apartment. 
Behind  the  counter  were  exhibited  the  commonest  saloon 
fixtures,  glasses,  decanters,  bottles,  etc.  At  one  end  of  the 
eastern  side  was  a door,  opening  into  the  kitchen,  employed 
also  as  a dining-room,  from  which  latter  apartment  extended 
a staircase  reaching  to  the  upper  story.  On  the  second  floor 
there  were  but  two  partitions,  forming  three  compartments. 

In  the  rear  of  these  were  two  beds,  for  the  elder  children.  In 
the  middle  room  was  one  double  bed.  In  the  front  room, 
much  more  spacious  and  better  furnished  than  the  rest,  was 
the  couch  occupied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawler.  There  were 
also  the  usual  bureaus,  tables,  chairs, ‘and  other  furniture  of 
similar  habitations,  with  a stove,  sofa,  rocking-chair,  mirrors, 
and  pictures.  It  was  far  from  a bare  and  unsightly  place  of 
abode.  Rather  the  contrary,  and  showing,  in  the  neatness 
and  order  prevailing,  that  Mrs.  Lawler  was  a good  and  careful 
housekeeper.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  best  room  in  the  house. 

In  other  ])arts  of  the  dwelling,  the  arrangements  for  home 
comfort  were  not  extensive  or  expensive,  yet  all  that  could  j 
well  be  expected  of  people  in  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawler’s  sphere  j 
in  life. 


MCrFF  LA  WLER  A T HOME. 


127 


Passing  the  time  very  ])leasantly  at  Shenandoah,  which  is 
an  agreeable  and  growing  city  of  some  three  thousand  inhab- 
itants, the  detective  made  occasional  trips — as  he  informed 
his  new-found  friend,  with  an  expressive  wink  of  the  eye, 
“upon  particular  business’’ — to  the  town  of  Colorado,  where 
he  encountered  and  became  intimate  with  one  Hugh  Mulligan, 
then  to  Rappahannock  and  other  points,  in  all  of  which  local- 
ities he  made  good  friends  among  the  Sleepers.  He  eventually 
took  up  his  abode  at  Lawler’s*  house,  occupying  the  bed  in 
the  centre  apartment,  up  stairs,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Law- 
ler’s brother,  and  paying  a reasonable  compensation  for  room 
and  board. 

Situated  as  he  now  was,  in  the  midst  of  the  hardest  char- 
acters and  most  devoted  Mollies  of  the  whole  country,  living 
in  the  house,  and  on  most  intimate  terms  of  friendship,  with 
the  leading  spirits  of  the  organization,  though  not  yet  a mem- 
ber of  the  murderous  order,  it  was  plainly  incumbent  upon 
the  detective,  if  he  cared  for  preserving  his  own  life  and  pro- 
moting the  success  of  the  Agency,  to  exercise  more  than 
ordinary  prudence  and  discretion  in  all  of  his  words  and 
movements,  that  he  might  not  be  thought  other  than  the 
wandering  vagabond,  fleeing  from  justice,  that  he  was  gener- 
ally believed  to  be.  It  seemed  especially  necessary  that  his 
correspondence  with  the  Philadelphia  office  should  not  be 
discovered,  or  even  imagined.  The  precautions  and  safe- 
guards placed  about  that  portion  of  the  business  before  Mc- 
Kenna started  from  the  city,  would  baffle  all  inquiry,  in  the 
end,  if  once  set  on  foot,  but  even  the  breath  of  suspicion 
should  not  be  allowed  to  arise.  Men  have  been  murdered 
from  the  mere  supposition  that  they  might  be  guilty  of  acting 
as  detectives,  in  Ireland,  and  the  same  spirit  pervaded  the 
ranks  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  here — hence  matters  calcu- 
lated to  excite  a surmise  must  be  deeply  buried.  The  detec- 
tive’s compulsory  letter- writing,  if  made  public,  even  though 
its  object  and  destination  were  ever  so  well  disguised,  might 


128 


MC/FF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


place  him  in  a dangerous  predicament.  Thus  he  was  alert, 
and  continually  vigilant.  ExcejUing  it  might  be  in  inditing 
a letter  to  relatives  in  the  old  country,  and  then  only  at  long 
intervals,  he  seldom  wrote  anything — that  is,  as  far  as  his 
companions  were  apprised.  His  daily  reports  must,  however, 
be  prepared  as  usual.  This  was  mandatory  upon  him,  and 
in  no  case  to  be  omitted  if  the  duty  could  be  safely  performed. 
Occasionally  a day  or  two  might  be  unavoidably  missed,  and 
then  the  consolidated  report  would  go  forward  in  one  envel- 
ope. Sometimes  he  was  forced  to  take  a short  journey  to  an 
adjacent  town,  secure  a room  at  a second-class  hotel,  and 
there  indite  his  letters  and  mail  them  to  the  proper  address. 
Thus  they  would  quickly  reach  Mr.  Franklin.  Writing-paper 
and  envelopes  he  could  with  safety  keep  in  his  possession. 
They  might  rest  in  his  satchel,  which  he  frequently  left  un- 
locked, without  danger  of  causing  those  to  wonder  who  might 
curiously  open  that  receptacle.  But  any  large  supply  of 
postage  stamps  would  hardly  seem  consistent  with  the  char- 
acter he  assumed.  He  must  not  purchase  them  at  the 
Shenandoah  post-office,  but  a quantity  were  forwarded  to  him 
from  Philadelphia.  These  came  to  him  in  due  season.  With  ' 
the  envelope  containing  them  in  his  hand,  he  sat  upon  the 
side  of  his  bed,  and  the  question  arose  : “ What  shall  I do 
with  these  troublesome  little  things?”  He  first  thought  of 
hiding  them  in  some  of  the  many  pockets  with  which  his 
rough  clothing  was  furnished.  But  the  chances  were  that 
some  time,  when  he  was  enacting  the  role  of  the  deeply  intox- 
icated man — as  he  had  done,  and  undoubtedly  would  again 
be  called  upon  to  do — he  might  be  searched  and  the  mis- 
chievous stamps  discovered.  Besides,  from  exposure  to 
inclement  weather,  he  was  frequently  drenched  to  the* skin, 
and  the  stamps  would  in  such  a case  be  reduced  to  pulp 
and  destroyed.  They  must  be  concealed — but  where  ? When 
did  one  of  his  countrymen  ever  give  over  as  hopeless  any 
scheme  or  plan,  when  exertion  of  ingenuity  might  supply  the 


AfC^FF  LA  WLRR  A T HOME. 


129 


bridge  that  would  safely  bear  him  over  an  obstacle  ? The 
instances  are  rare,  and  McKenna  was  not  to  be  the  subject 
of  one  of  them.  “Can’t  I put  them  under  my  stocking,  next 
the  sole  of  my  boot?”  he  asked  himself.  No^  that  would 
never  do.  Moisture,  friction,  and  his  weight  would  combine 
soon  to  deface  and  ruin  the  stamps.  An  expedient,  in  this 
connection,  however,  now  occurred  to  him,  and,  taking  out 
his  pocket-knife,  he  made  a small,  narrow  opening  in  the 
sheepskin  lining  of  the  leg  of  one  of  the  heavy  top  boots, 
and  betwixt  that  and  the  heavy  leather  formed  a pouch,  the 
mouth  of  which  was  almost  invisible,  in  which,  after  wrapping 
them  in  some  strong  paper,  he  deposited  the  postage-stam})s. 
In  this  safe  place,  as  long  as  he  remained  in  the  vicinity,  he 
continued  to  carry  them.  He  was  reasonably  sure  of  having 
them  always  convenient ; and,  as  he  had  but  one  pair  of 
boots  at  a time,  could  hardly  forget  to  take  those  with  him, 
however  suddenly  he  might  be  called  to  remove  from  one 
point  to  another. 

Another  thing  which  troubled  him  not  a little  was  to  obtain 
a constant  supply  of  good  ink.  Several  small  bottles,  which 
he  procured  and  kept  hidden  in  his  room,  froze  solid,  and  the 
fluid  was  spoiled.  The  I.awler  family  was  not  literary.  Its 
members  made  small  use  of  pens,  ink,  and  j^aper,  and  a frag- 
ment of  red  or  white  chalk  employed  upon  a portion  of  the 
bar  shelving,  and  well  out  of  sight  behind  bottles  and  cigar- 
! boxes,  formed  blotter,  journal,  cash-book,  and  ledger  for 
!Mike.  His  was  a cash  business,  calling  for  no  account- 
books.  Ink  was  a superfluity  in  his  house,  the  absence  of 
which  could  well  be  pardoned.  Both  of  the  heads  of  that 
family  believed  firmly  in  meddling  with  writing  as  little  as 
possible.  * But  McKenna  must  have  ink.  Fortunately  for 
l.iim,  Mrs.  Lawler  was  an  excellent  laundress,  and  employed 
iquid  bluing  to  give  proper  clearness  to  her  husband’s  linen. 
This  coloring  matter  the  detective  frequently  made  use  of, 
ind  there  is  abundant  evidence  in  his  reports,  sometimes  in 
6* 


130 


MUFF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


the  shape  of  blots  and  patches  not  necessary  to  the  adorn- 
ment of  the  slieet,  that  the  landlady’s  indigo  bottle  suffered 
considerably  from  the  inroads  made  upon  it  by  his  busy  steel 
pen.  The  latter  instrument,  in  a common  tin  case,  he 
easily  managed  to  carry,  with  tobacco,  keys,  cartridges,  bits 
of  string  and  nails,  in  some  of  his  convenient  pockets.  Many 
a time  did  he  creep  down  the  stairs  and  across  the  bar-room 
in  liis  stocking  feet,  bearing  his  boots  in  his  hand,  of  a cold  j 
winter  night,  light  a tallow  candle,  or  a miner’s  lamp,  and 
sit  shivering  by  the  kitchen  table,  with  a miserably  dim  and 
uncertain  llame,  writing  up  his  report,  and  consuming  his 
substitute  for  ink,  at  Mrs.  Lawler’s  expense.  On  one  or  two 
occasions,  in  fact,  he  was  reduced  to  the  strait  of  comming- 
ling soot  from  the  fire-place  with  water  for  writing  purposes, 
when  he  had  no  pencil,  the  indigo  vial  was  absent  from  its 
accustomed  place,  or  the  supply  of  fiuid  had  given  out. 
After  completing  the  composition  there  came  the  enveloping 
and  stamping.  Diving  into  his  corner  in  the  old  boot-leg, 
be  would  take  out  the  amount  required  and  carefully  replace 
the  remainder.  Then,  not  daring  to  retain  the  dangerous 
missive  over  night  in  his  possession,  he  must  don  his  over-  j 
coat,  and,  by  the  illumination  granted  by  the  stars  alone,  j 
wend  his  way  to  the  post-office,  where  he  could  deposit  his 
parcel  in  the  outside  box  and  no  person  be  the  wiser. 
Sometimes  he  had  to  return  from  these  short  nocturnal  jour- 
neys completely  saturated  with  falling  rain,  or  having,  in  the 
darkness,  stumbled  into  a ditch  or  mud-hole,  his  clothes 
would  present  a terribly  soiled  appearance  when  he  could  see 
them.  To  save  himself  trouble  in  answering  unpleasant 
questions,  he  would,  in  such  an  event,  kindle  a fire  in  the 
cook-stove,  dry  and  cleanse  his  garments,  and  then,  before 
retiring,  sit  up  and  watch  the  embers  until  they  expired,  in 
order  that  Mrs.  Lawler  might  find  nothing  to  make  inquiries 
about.  Very  luckily  for  him,  his  bedfellow  was  a sound 
sleeper,  and  never  once  awakened  when  he  left  the  room  or 


M17FF  LAWLER  AT  HOME. 


I3I 

returned.  Had  he  done  so,  however,  the  detective  had 
ready  contrived  an  excuse  which  must  have  silenced  suspicion, 
in  any  reasonable  man,  that  the  absentee  was  engaged  in 
work  not  unnecessary  for  one  in  his  physical  condition.  All 
in  Lawler’s  house  slept  deeply.  This  greatly  favored  the 
detective’s  wanderings  at  night.  But  he  was  not  long  in 
discovering  that  he  must  find  a place  where,  however  small 
and  inconvenient,  he  could  occupy  some  sort  of  an  apart- 
ment quite  by  himself.  Otherwise  his  reports  would  be  few 
and  scattering,  brief  and  unsatisfactory.  He  therefore  began 
the  search  for  another  boarding-house,  with  a valid  reason 
for  cutting  away  from  the  Lawler  residence. 

One  day,  not  long  after  McKenna  had  reached  this  con- 
clusion, Lawler  came  home  from  the  colliery  some  hours 
earlier  than  usual,  and  meeting  the  stranger,  inquired  if  he 
had  any  clothes  suitable  for  use  in  the  mines. 

“ Faix,  an’  I hev  these  same  that  ye  see  me  afther  standin’ 
in,”  said  McKenna,  “ wid  my  Sunday  suit  beside  ! ” 

“ Oh,  botheration  ! ” exclaimed  Lawler,  impatiently. 

“ Those  will  never  suit  the  work  in  the  slope,  with  the 
smoke,  an’  the  dirt,  an’  the  wather ! ” 

“ Well,  then,  I suppose  wan  can  buy  others  that  will  do  ! 
Just  tell  me  what’s  wantin’,  an’,  sure.  I’ll  see  about  it ! 
.Now  in  the  silver  mines,  in  the  West,  a man  can  wear  most 
anything — still,  I must  acknowledge  that  the  diaper  the 
cloth  the  least  money  thrown  away,  even  there  !” 

“ True  for  ye!”  said  Lawler.  “And  if  you  can’t  raise' 
the  funds — of  the  right  sort,  you  know — I’ll  go  security  for 
you  till  pay  day  for  such  things  as  you’ll  need — my  credit’s 
good  at  the  store — for  the  boss  has  sent  me  to  tell  you  that 
in  a short  time  he  can  put  you  on  a job  loadin’  coal  in  the 
slope.  I’ll  inform  you,  beforehand,  that  it’ll  be  hard  work, 
but  I guess  you  can  stand  it  a while  1 ” 

McKenna  made  known  his  desire  to  try  it,  at  all  events. 
The  heavy-soled  boots,  miner’s  lamp  for  his  hat-band,  the 


132 


M[/FF  LAWLER  AT  HOME, 


tin  dinner-pail  and  canteen,  a pair  of  coarse  denim  overalls, 
a loose  jacket  tied  with  a strong  string  at  the  waist,  or 
buckled  in  with  his  trusty  strap,  and  an  old,  nearly  worn-out 
hat,  formerly  worn  by  La>vler,  completed  McKenna’s  shifting 
suit.  The  prospect  of  soon  entering  the  mine  to  labor  was 
pleasant.  It  would  give  him  a better  opportunity  to  see 
and  know  a greater  number  of  Mollies,  and  at  the  same  time 
gain  more  familiar  footing  with  Lawler.  But  when  the 
appointed  day  arrived,  the  boss  received  orders  from  his 
employers  to  discharge  old,  instead  of  hiring  new  men.  Still 
Lawler  did  not  despair.  His  time  would  come,  he  confi- 
dently declared. 

At  about  this  date  the  whole  country  was  covered  with 
snow,  which  fell  heavily  during  several  succeeding  days,  and 
travel,  with  teams,  or  even  on  foot,  was  dangerous.  For 
more  than  a week  communication  between  places  not  con- 
nected by  railway  was  almost  entirely  suspended. 

When  Sunday  came,  McKenna,  as  was  his  custom,  put 
on  his  best  garments,  combed  out  his  matted  hair  a little, 
washed  his  face,  and  attended  the  church  of  his  faith,  where 
he  sat  and  listened,  silently  concurring,  to  a powerful  denun- 
ciation of  the  Mollies  by  the  officiating  clergyman.  Father 
O’Reilley,  who,  after  reading  to  the  congregation  a commu- 
nication from  Bishop  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  on  the  same 
subject,  launched  out  feelingly  and  bitterly  against  the  iVncient 
Order  of  Hibernians,  White  Boys,  Buckshots,  etc.,  etc., 
otherwise  the  Mollie  Maguires,  characterizing  the  men  who 
could  belong  to  such  bodies  as  scarcely  less  than  damnable. 
I.awler  held  a talk  with  the  detective,  after  Mass,  and, 
alluding  to  the  anathemas  of  the  priest,  said  that  the  Sunday 
previous  he  had  himself  been  in  the  church  and  received  a 
scoring  of  equal  severity.  He  pretended  not  to  care  the 
snap  of  his  finger  for  it,  and  bade  McKenna  not  to  be  down- 
hearted over  so  trifling  a matter.  He  said  : 

“For  my  part,  I am  a member  of  and  officer  in  the 


MUFF  LAWLER  AT  HOME.  133 

society,  and  will  remain  so  until  I see  good  reason  for  chang- 
ing ! ” 

Ed.  Lawler,  a nephew  of  the  landlord,  some  months  pre- 
vious, had  engaged  in  a quarrel  with  an  Englishman,  named 
Broi)hy.  He  finally  fired  upon  and  severely  wounded  his 
antagonist,  and  only  escaped  immediate  arrest  by  suddenly 
leaving  the  vicinity.  Brophy  recovered,  and,  the  Sabbath 
spoken  of,  came  to  Muff  Lawler  with  propositions  for  settle- 
ment of  the  affair.  The  arrangement  consumed  most  of  the 
day,  and  was  completed,  Lawler  paying  Brophy  twenty  dol- 
lars to  have  the  prosecution  abandoned.  That  same  night 
word  was  forwarded  to  the  young  exile — who  was  not  yet 
twenty-one  years  of  age — that  he  could  return  to  his  home 
and  his  relatives.  In  a short  time  Ed.  made  his  appearance 
in  Shenandoah,  was  introduced  to  and  conceived  a wonder- 
ful liking  for  McKenna,  and,  had  the  detective  been  willing, 
would  have  made  himself  very  intimate  in  his  companion- 
ship, but  that  personage  had  his  own  ideas  concerning  his 
associates,  and  did  not  care  to  have  many  so  reckless  and 
juvenile  as  the  man  in  question.  Ed.  was  notoriously  bad — 
and  there  was  nothing  to  attract  McKenna  to  him,  nor  could 
anything  be  gained  by  seeking  his  society. 

The  officer  felt,  from  day  to  day,  that,  as  long  as  he  re- 
mained outside  the  order  of  Mollie  Maguires,  so  long  would 
he  be  in  the  power  of  a bad,  reckless  and  changeable  set  of 
men,  who  might,  at  almost  any  moment,  turn  from  friends  to 
inveterate  enemies.  Hence,  without  seeming  to  press  the 
subject  upon  Lawler,  he  caused  him  to  move  a little  faster 
in  the  proper  direction. 


134  THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY. 

The  operations  of  the  detective  as  a laborer  in  the  coal 
mines  were  destined  to  be  of  brief  duration.  Commencing 
nigh  the  middle  of  February,  1874,  working  a few  days  load- 
ing coal-wagons  from  the  chute  in  the  slope,  to  be  run  to, 
and  then  emptied  in  the  breaker,  he  soon  had  all  that  he 
cared  for  in  that  particular  line  of  industry.  A day’s  appor- 
tionment was  considered  to  be  about  eight  of  these  wagon- 
loads of  the  mass  coal,  comprising  pieces  varying  in  weight 
from  a few  pounds  to  several  hundreds  of  pounds,  all  of 
which  he  was  expected  to  place  in  the  body  of  the  small 
truck  for  removal  to  the  upper  regions.  He  was  supposed 
to  be  in  the  shaft  from  half-past  six  in  the  morning  until 
about  five  or  half  past  five  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  which 
was  the  day  shift,  when  other  workmen  took  his  place. 
Everything,  at  first,  appeared  very  strange  to  him,  and  the 
close  air  made  him  sick  and  giddy.  Each  wagon  would 
transport  some  two  and  one-half  tons  of  coal,  hence  the 
shovel er’s  ten  hours’  stint  would  be  equal  to  handling 
twenty  tons  of  anthracite diem^  a task  that  one,  accus- 
tomed, for  mere  pastime,  to  shovel  into  a cellar,  handily 
with  a scoop,  his  ton  or  half  ton  of  grate  or  range  coal, 
can  hardly  appreciate.  He  may  come  near  it,  but  the 
strength  required  to  lift  the  larger  pieces  he  cannot  properly 
estimate.  And  this  wearisome  occiq^ation  must  be  steadily 
pursued,  from  early  morning  until  the  hour  for  luncheon, 
and  from  one  o’clock  p.m.  until  time  to  be  relieved  by  the 
night  force.  It  constituted  much  heavier  work  than  Mc- 
Kenna had  ever  been  accustomed  to,  hence  it  is  not  to  be 


THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY.  1 35 


wondered  at  that  his  hands  were  worn  quite  raw  when  he 
left  the  shaft-house  at  the  colliery,  after  his  first  day’s  expe- 
rience in  it.  Indeed,  had  there  not  occurred  an  accident,  in 
which  some  of  the  apparatus  by  which  the  loaded  trucks 
were  elevated  to  the  hopper  of  the  breaker  gave  way,  it  is 
more  than  probable  that,  before  quitting  time,  he  would  have 
found  himself  entirely  disabled  and  compelled  to  vacate  his 
post.  As  it  was,  the  condition  of  hi?  bruised  and  bleeding 
fingers,  when  he  returned  to  Lawler’s  for  supper,  after  a. 
good  cleansing  in  the  kitchen,  was  quite  deplorable,  and  he 
employed  his  knife  and  fork  awkwardly  and  ])ainfully  enough 
during  the  meal.  He  made  no  wry  faces,  however,  as  this 
would  have  been  an  admission  that  he  had  never  before  had 
anything  to  do  with  mining  of  any  sort,  but  bore  the  pain 
in  gritty  silence,  retiring  early  to  his  apartment,  not  to  write 
or  sleep,  however,  as  the  tortures  he  experienced  interfered 
with  the  use  of  the  pen,  and  kept  his  eyes  open,  in  spite  of 
his  exhaustion  and  desire  to  become  oblivious  to  sublunary 
affairs.  It  was  almost  time  to  rise  and  prepare  for  another 
laborious  day,  before  his  eyelids  closed  in  broken  and  fitful 
slumber. 

The  second  day,  the  detective  was  ap])roached  by  a 
miner,  seemingly  at  the  head  of  the  society,  who  demanded 
a view  of  his  card  from  the  Miners’  and  Laborers’  Union. 
As  he  had  none,  the  request  could  not  be  complied  with, 
and  the  man,  named  Mullaly,  was  so  informed.  The  man 
told  McKenna  that,  unless  he  joined  the  organization,  he 
could  not  labor  in  that  calling.  Of  course  the  operative  was 
willing  to  do  this  as  soon  as  able,  and  so  exi)ressed  him- 
self, when,  after  some  further  words,  Mullaly  took  his  de- 
parture. 

The  severe  pain  in  his  hands  and  limbs  left  the  detective 
after  five  or  six  days,  and  he  felt  well  enough  to  roam  abroad 
in  the  city  soon  after  supper.  But  it  was  very  little  he  cared 
about  sitting  up  late  following  a day’s  digging  in  the  shaft, 


136  THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY. 


and  nine  or  ten  o’clock  at  night  generally  found  him  in  bed. 
But  an  accident  that  befell  him  on  the  seventeenth  of  the 
month  ])ut  him  upon  the  shelf  for  some  time.  Having  his 
hand  severely  injured,  by  being  crushed  between  two  car- 
wheels,  he  was  unable  to  pursue  any  laborious  occui)ation 
until  it  healed.  On  the  succeeding  day,  Mrs.  Lawler  was 
suddenly  attacked  with  serious  illness,  and  all  the  boarders  at 
the  tavern,  McKenna  included,  were  forced  to  leave  and 
secure  other  accommodations.  Mrs.  Lawler  was  not  ex- 
pected to  sufficiently  recover  to  return  to  her  duties  very 
soon,  and  no  proper  substitute  for  her  could  be  found  in 
Shenandoah.  Excepting  the  bad  health  of  Mrs.  Lawler — for 
which  he  really  felt  sorry — the  occurrence  furnished  that 
which  the  detective  had  lately  been  seeking  for — an  excuse 
to  change  boarding-places — and  he  soon  obtained  a room 
])assibly  to  his  liking  at  the  residence  of  Fenton  Cooney, 
w'ho  had  moved  to  Shenandoah.  The  little  bedroom  that  he 
tenanted  was  rather  cold  and  cheerless,  but  there  was  one 
thing  about  it  which  fully  compensated — he  was  to  be  its 
only  occupant,  unless,  when  the  house  might  be  crowded, 
he  chose  to  share  the  bed  with  some  of  his  friends.  There 
was  one  slight  objection  to  the  apartment,  which,  however, 
he  soon  obviated.  It  came  in  the  shape  of  a large  hole  in 
the  wall  separating  him  from  another  room,  just  in  the  cor- 
ner, at  the  head  of  his  bed,  caused  by  uneven  settling  of  the 
foundations  of  the  building,  through  which  a man  might 
thrust  his  arm.  Not  that  he  particularly  cared  for  the 
draught  of  air,  but  when  he  came  to  composing  his  reports 
and  using  a lamp,  which  was  generally  late  at  night,  it  would 
not  do  to  have  any  chance  observer  in  the  hall,  or  prying 
servants,  see  a gleam  of  light  emanating  from  his  bedroom. 
This  was  prevented  by  stopping  up  the  large  aperture  with 
such  old  clothes  as  he  could  spare  from  his  satchel — taking 
the  precaution  of  packing  them  away  again  in  the  morning 
before  vacating  the  premises — and  hanging  his  old  shifting 


THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VIC  TO  TV.  1 3/ 


hat  on  the  knob  of  the  lock,  over  the  keyhole.  After  these 
preparations,  he  was  enabled  to  work  in  safety.  A small 
bottle  of  ink,  however,  which  he  procured  and  secreted  in 
the  room,  froze  as  solid  as  a rock  the  very  first  night,  and  he 
was  reduced,  for  several  days,  to  the  expedient  of  trying 
a lead  pencil.  Subsequently,  he  used  a newly-patented 
copying  pencil,  but  had  poor  luck  with  it,  as  the  nearly 
undecii)herable  reports  he  sent  in  abundantly  testify.  By 
employing  a portable  inkstand  and  filling  it  frequently  out 
of  Mrs.  Cooney’s  bluing  bottle,  which,  happily  for  him,  was 
left  near  the  fire,  in  the  kitchen,  he  managed  to  do  better 
until  an  event  occurred  that  rendered  such  a proceeding  un- 
necessary. Cooney,  who  was  no  scholar,  chanced  to  have  a 
number  of  letters  to  send  to  Pottsville,  and,  learning  that  his 
new  boarder,  McKenna,  could  “use  the  pen  iligantly” — as 
Lawler^expressed  it — he  was  pressed  into  the  service,  first 
having  been  sent  to  the  nearest  store  for  some  ink.  He 
took  care  to  buy  a middling-sized  bottleful,  and,  after  com- 
pleting his  task  for  Cooney,  put  it  beside  the  bluing  in  the 
same  place,  and  all  he  had  to  do  when  he 'needed  to  per- 
form some  work  in  his  room,  was  to  take  away  a quantity  in 
his  pocket  stand  and  throw  out  what  was  left  when  he  con- 
cluded his  labors.  Mrs.  Cooney  was  particularly  cautioned 
to  keep  the  ink-bottle  where  it  was,  and,  without  asking  any 
questions,  complied.  Thus  was  this  trouble,  for  a time, 
wiped  away.  These  details  may  seem  trifling,  but  the  emer- 
gency demanded  great  caution. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  McKenna  formed  the  acquaintance 
of  one  Frank  McAndrew.  A friendship  immediately  sprung 
up  between  these  two  men  that,  nothwithstanding  the  trials 
and  troubles  through  which  both  have  passed — in  fact, 
danger  and  adventure  seemed  to  strengthen  the  feeling — 
remains,  to  this  day,  unimpaired  and  unshaken.  McAndrew 
held  true  to  McKenna  in  his  darkest  hour,  through  good  and 
bad  repute  ; and  as  he  must  play  a conspicuous  part  in  the 


138  THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY. 


course  of  this  relation,  some  reference  to  his  persofi?iel  may 
prove  of  advantage  to  the  reader. 

Of  Celtic  descent,  McAndrew  was  twenty-eight  or  twenty- 
nine  years  of  age,  fair  to  look  upon,  of  medium  height,  hav- 
ing round  and  well-proportioned  limbs.  His  hair  was  of  a 
lightish  auburn,  somewhat . wavy,  fine  in  texture  and  worn 
rather  gracefully.  He  had  a mustache  of  sandy  hue,  good 
teeth,*  blue  eyes,  regular  features,  and  a comjilexion  some- 
times described  as  tlorid.  His  nose,  was  rather  long  and 
sharp.  Usually  clad  in  good  and  decently-fashioned  clothing, 
when  out  of  his  shifting  suit,  Frank  was,  if  anything,  generally 
more  presentable  than  the  usual  run  of  men  brought  up  to 
the  calling  of  a miner.  He  was  married  and  the  father  of 
two  children. 

It  was  from  McAndrew  that  McKenna,  about  the  middle 
of  February,  heard  that  a man  named  I^anaham  had  been 
shot  the  preceding  day  at  Centralia.  The  crime  was  by 
some  charged  upon  the  sheriff,  or  his  assistants,  and  by 
others  upon  the  chain-gang,  but,  as  McAndrew  remarked, 
“the  Mollies  would  have  to  bear  the  blame,  whether  guilty 
or  innocent.”  The  probability  was  that  they  had  something 
to  do  with  it. 

About  the  close  of  the  same  month,  McKenna,  only  suffer- 
ing the  loss  of  some  of  his  finger-nails,  as  the  result  of  the 
mining  accident,  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  return  to  coal- 
shoveling  in  the  shaft  of  the  West  Shenandoah  colliery. 
McAndrew  was  employed  in  the  same  mine,  not  far  from 
him,  and  they  had  Mike  Lawler  as  a companion  almost 
within  speaking  distance.  During  their  dinner  hour  Mike 
Lawler  suggested  that  he  wanted  McKenna  well  inside  the 
ring  before  St.  Patrick’s  day,  so  that  he  could  appear  in  the 
procession.  It  was  then  the  intention  to  make  as  good  a 
show  as  possible  on  that  occasion.  McAndrew  Readily 
acceded  to  the  proposition,  and  the  operative  assenting,  it 
was  agreed  that  his  ciame  should  be  taken  in  at  the 'ensuing 


THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VIC  TOE  V.  139 


regular  meeting.  But  McKenna  did  not  march  in  the 
procession  on  the  seventeenth.  A few  members  from  a 
country  division  came  out.  The  majority  of  the  Mollies, 
preferring  to  remain  incog.,  did  not  attempt  to  walk  with 
those  belonging  to  other  societies. 

About  the  beginning  of  March  the  times  were  so  hard 
that  a number  of  men  had  to  be  discharged  from  the  colliery, 
including  McKenna  and  his  companions.  They  were  prom- 
ised work  when  business  was  more  lively.  In  the  meantime, 
the  detective’s  efforts — which  could  not  be  very  active- with- 
out attracting  undesirable  attention — to  gain  admission  to 
the  Ancient  Order,  as  it  was  sometimes  called,  were  unavail- 
ing. Lawler  sometimes  referred  to  his  promise,  but  seemed 
unwilling  or  afraid  to  proceed.  McKenna  was  aware  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  not  been  black-balled,  and  all  now 
wanting  was  a fairly  attended  meeting  to  call  for  his  admis- 
sion. McAndrew  and  Lawler  had  lately  fallen  out.  They 
did  not  openly  quarrel,  but  Lawler  wanted  to  be  re-elected 
Bodymaster  of  the  division,  and  McAndrew  thought  it  was 
due  to  him.  Lawler  urged  that,  as  McAndrew  could  not 
read  or  write,  he  was  ineligible,  and  there  were  a few  mem- 
bers who  sided  with  him.  Others  contended  that  lack  of 
education  made  no  difference.  McAndrew  being  McKenna’s 
warm  friend,  that  fact  might  have  had  something  to  do  with 
the  delay  by  Lawler  in  having  the  applicant  initiated. 

Matters  remained  in  this  condition,  McKenna,  and  his 
friends  working  part  of  the  time  and  then  for  weeks  being 
unemployed,  until  about  the  thirteenth  of  the  following  April. 
Thinking  to  accelerate  action  a little,  the  detective,  one 
day,  proposed  to  Lawler,  that,  in  a little  while,  he  would 
have  to  bid  him  good-by,  alleging  that  w^ork  was  so  dull  he 
had  concluded  to  go  to  Luzerne  County,  and  there  pass  the 
spring.and  summer.  He  knew  he  could  get  work  in  Wilkes- 
barre,  or  find  an  old  friend  who  had  proposed  to  set  him  up 
in  business — that  is,  give  him  a supply*  of  bogus  bank  bills 


140  THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY. 


to  be  disposed  of  on  commission.  “Anything,”  he  remarked, 
“ is  better  than  idleness.”  This  had  the  desired  effect. 

McKenna  had  been  instructed  to  take  some  such  course, 
but  not  to  push  the  matter. 

Lawler  stirred  himself,  said  he  did  not  want  McKenna  to 
leave,  informed  him  that  a meeting  would  soon  be  held,  and 
his  case  should  certainly  be  acted  upon.  He  had  his  own 
reasons  for  desiring  McKenna  to  remain  at  Shenandoah,  and 
for  getting  him  into  the  division ; but  he  wanted  first  to  be 
sure  that  he  would  support  him  (Lawler)  for  Bodymaster. 
In  default  of  this,  he  wished  to  be  elected  County  Delegate, 
a lucrative  and  high  position  then  held  by  one  Barney  Dolan, 
of  Big  Mine  Run.  A hint  of  this  was  all  McKenna  needed. 
While  he  could  not  promise  to  go  against  McAndrew,  he 
could,  and  did,  say  that  he  would  do  his  utmost  to  put  Law- 
ler in  Dolan’s  position.  Thereupon  Lawler  exclaimed,  with 
a chuckle  of  satisfaction : “ At  the  very  next  meeting  we’ll 
see  you  made  all  right ! ” 

As  the  division  held  its  sessions  at  Lawlers  house  during 
these  days,  the  would-be  Mollie  made  it  his  business  to  be 
present  nearly  every  evening.  But  it  was  not  until  the  night 
of  Tuesday,  the  fourteenth  of  April,  that  his  watchfulness 
earned  its  merited  reward.  He  was  at  Lawler’s,  after  snip- 
per, as  usual,  and  Mike  had  been  drinking  more  than  need- 
ful, assisted  somewhat  by  McKenna,  who  wished  his  friend  to 
be  in  good  trim  for  doing  something  generous,  as  he  had 
heard  it  was  the  date  for  the  legular  monthly  gathering  of 
the  society.  Presently,  as  nine  o’clock  arrived,  there  drop- 
ped in  at  the  tavern  several  well  known  Mollies,  among  them 
Ed.  Ferguson — called  Fergus — Pete  Monaghan,  Thomas 
Hurley,  Frank  McAndrew  and  Tom  McNulty.  In  a little 
while,  seeming  to  take  their  cue  from  Lawler,  who  left  his 
wife  to  attend  the  bar,  the  rest  of  the  family  having  retired, 
they  one  by  one  dropped  into  the  kitchen  and  quietly 
ascended  the  stair  way  leading  to  the  second  floor.  McAndi'ew 


THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTOR  V.  14I 


and  McKenna  were  thus  alone  in  the  beer  room  with  the 
landlady.  The  former  aj)peared  to  be  acting  as  a sort  of  out- 
side guardian  of  the  division.  Very  few  words  were  ex- 
changed by  the  two  men. 

The  thoughts  which  passed  through  the  brain  of  the  detec- 
tive at  the  moment,  as  he  sat  listening  to  the  retreating  foot- 
steps of  the  Mollies,  may  possibly  be  imagined  by  those  who 
have  been  in  similar  positions,  but  others  can  have  small  con- 
ception of  tlieir  meaning  and  effect,  and  to  describe  them  is 
quite  impracticable.  His  heart  stood  almost  still  during 
the  following  few  minutes  of  suspense,  and  only  beat  regularly 
and  calmly  when  he  heard  a quick-descending  tread,  and 
then  the  same  sound  approaching  him  from  the  kitchen.  He 
breathed  more  freely  when  he  saw  that  the  arrival  was  Pete 
Monaghan,  who  made  a signal  that  he  should  accompany 
him  upstairs,  still  leaving  only  McAndrew  below.  The 
decisive  period,  for  which  he  had  labored,  watched,  and 
waited  during  five  long,  weary  months,  had  at  last  arrived. 

It  was  a trying  and  critical  crisis  in  the  detective’s  experience, 
and  he  felt  within  him  keener  evidence  of  mental  excitement 
than  he  remembered  having  been  the  subject  of  since  enter- 
ing the  State.  As  he  ascended  the  steep  steps  he  endeavored 
to  take  in,  comprehend,  and  forecast  the  probable  result  of 
the  act  he  was  about  to  take  part  in,  and  mentally  asked 
himself,  more  than  olice,  if  it  would  end  in  failure  or  success. 
This  cast  of  thought  was  turned  from  its  course  by  arriving  at  -- 
the  door  of  Mike  Lawler’s  sleeping  apartment,  which,  it  will 
be  remembered,  was  reasonably  large  and  decently  furnished. 
Space  left  within,  on  account  of  the  wide  bed,  the  tables  and 
chairs,  was  a little  circumscribed,  yet  enough  remained  to 
tolerably  accommodate  the  sparse  assemblage  of  brothers. 

A large  lamp  burned  brightly  on  the  bureau,  before  the  oval 
mirror,  at  one  extremity  of  the  room,  between  the  two  heavily 
draped  windows,  and  another,  giving  a lesser  -light,  resteJ 
upon  a stand,  or  table,  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  apartment. 


i 


142  THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VIC  TOE  V. 


Jjehind  the  small  table  Mike  Lawler,  the  Boch  master  of  the 
Division,  stood,  holding  in  his  hand  a slip  of  paper,  which  at 
the  moment  he  was  intently  and  earnestly  studying.  The 
other  men  were  ranged,  standing  erect  with  arms  folded, 
around  the  room,  leaving  a clear  s[)Ot  of  carj^et  in  the  centre 
of  the  floor.  Each  Afollie  devoutly  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross  as  Monaghan  and  McKenna  entered.  The  latter  was 
instructed  to  similarly  bless  himself,  and  promptly  obeyed. 
He  was  then  taken  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  and,  still 
standing  by  his  side,  Monaghan  proclaimed  all  in  readiness 
to  proceed. 

“The  neophyte  will  kneel !”  said  Trawler.  • 

“Now  get  down  on  your  ])rayer-bones,  ” whispered 
Monaghan  ; and  McKenna  knelt  iij:)on  the  carpet. 

Here  all  the  members,  at  a given  signal  from  Lawler,  drew 
nearer  the  initiate,  leaving  room  for  the  Bodymaster,  who 
came  also,  still  holding  the  mysterious  j)aper  in  his  hand. 

“ I will  now  proceed,”  said  the  presiding  officer,  in  a pom- 
pous and  affected  tone  of  voice,  “ to  explain  to  you  the 
‘objects  of  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians  : ‘We  are  joined 
together  to  promote  friendship,  unity  and  true  Christian 
charity  among  our  members,  by  raising  money  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  aged,  sick,  blind,  and  infirm.  The  motto  of 
the  order  is,  Friendship,  Unity,  and  true  Christian  Charity  ; 
unity,  in  uniting  for  mutual  support  in  sickness  and  distress  ; 
friendship,  in  assisting  each  other  to  the  best  of  our  ability  ; 
true  Christian  charity  by  doing  to  each  other  and  all  the 
world  as  vye  would  wish  they  should  do  unto  us.’  It  is  the 
desire  to  promote  friendship  among  the  Irish  Catholics,  and 
especially  to  assist  one  another  in  all  trials.  You  are 
expected  to  keep  all  matters  occurring  within  the  division 
room  a secret  in  your  own  heart.  None  of  the  workings  of 
the  society  are  to  be  recalled  to  those  not  known  to  be  mem- 
bers.” 

Here  there  was  a short  pause,  and  the  initiate  was  asked 


'Rack  JMollie  devout ly  made  the  S2g)i  of  tJ.e  cross  as  Monaghan  and  McKenna  entered. 


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THE  DETECTIVE  ACHIEVES  A VICTORY.  143 


if  he  subscribed  to  all  these  things,  to  which  he  made  audible 
answer  in  the  affirmative. 

“ I will  then  proceed  to  administer  the  solemn  and  bind- 
ing obligation  with  which  all  i^resent  have  already  pledged 
themselves.  You  will  repeat  these  words  after  me:” 

IVfcKenna,  still  upon  his  knees,  and  guarded  by  Monaghan, 
repeated  the  oath,  or  obligation,  as  Lawler  read  it  from  the 
paper,  as  near  as  may  be,  as  follows  : 

“ I,  James  AfcKenna,  having  heard  the  objects  of  the 
order  fully  explained,  do  solemnly  swear  that  I will,  with  the 
help  of  God,  keep  inviolably  secret  all  the  acts  and  things 
done  by  this  order,  and  obey  the  constitution  and  by-laws  in 
every  respect.  Should  I hear  a member  illy  spoken  of,  I will 
espouse  his  cause,  and  convey  the  information  to  him  as  soon 
as  possible  for  me  so  to  do.  1 will  obey  my  superior  officers 
in  every  thipg  lawful,  and  not  otherwise.  All  this  1 do 
solemnly  swear-!  ” 

Then  McKenna  was  told  to  cross  himself  once  more,  the 
surrounding  brothers  doing  the  same,  and  the  test-})aper,  as 
it  was  called,  was  handed  to  him  by  Lawler,  and,  still  in  a 
kneeling  posture,  he  reverently  kissed  it,  and  was  prompted 
by  Monaghan  to  rise. 

This  concluded  the  brief  initiatory  ceremony.  Afterward, 
the  new-made  member  walked  to  the  treasurer’s  table,  which 
was  the  bureau,  and  there  paid  three  dollars,  the  sum  assessed 
as  the  initiatory  fee. 

He  should  have  subsequently  signed  his  name  in  a book 
containing  the  constitution  of  the  body,  but  this  was  omitted, 
as  were  many  other  things  which  in  regular  lodges  of  the 
order  of  Ancient  Hibernians  are  always  insisted  upon.  All 
present  now  came  forward  and  warmly  shook  hands  with 
McKenna,  welcoming  him  as  brother. 

The  next  thing  was  the  instruction  of  the  new  member  in 
the  password-  and  signs — or  secret  work — commonly  called 
“the  goods”  of  the  society,  by  Lawler,  as  follows: 


144  the  detective  achieves  a VIC  toe  y. 


“The  sign  of  recognition,  which  is  changed  every  three 
months,  for  the  present  is  made  by  putting  the  tij)  of  the  lit- 
tle finger  of  the  right  hand  to  the  outer  corner  of  the  right 
eye,  thus  : and  the  Bodymaster  made  the  sign,  which 
McKenna  was  requested  to  imitate.  He  did  so,  and  the 
officer  resumed  : 

“The  answer  to  this  is,  to  catch  the  right  lapel  of  the  vest, 
or  coat,  with  the  little  finger  and  thumb  of  the  right  hand,  in 
this  manner  ; ” and  Lawler  performed  the  answering  signal, 
which  the  novitiate  imitated  as  well  as  he  could. 

Lawler  continued  : 

“There  are  a number  of  toasts,  or  hailing  signs  and  respon- 
ses, by  which  members  of  the  order  recognize  each  other. 
When  the  signal  just  furnished  cannot  be  seen,  what  is  called 
the  drinking  toast  for  the  quarter  is  employed.  It  is  this  : 

“ ‘ The  Emperor  of  P'rance  and  Don  Carlos  of  Spain.’ 

“ And  is  answered  : 

“ ‘ May  unite  together  and  the  people’s  rights  maintain.’ 

“The  password,  now  used  in  entering  a division,  is  this  ; 

“ ‘ Question:  Will  tenant  right  in  Ireland  flourish?’ 

“ ^Answer  : If  the  people  unite  and  the  landlords  subdue.’ 

“The  quarreling  woid,  to  be  employed  when  a brother  is 
in  doubt  if  one  with  whom  he  is  about  to  dispute  or  come  to 
blows  is  a member  of  the  order,  or  not,  is  as  follows  : 

“ ‘ Quest io7t  : Your  temper  is  high  !’ 

“ '•Atiszt’er  : I have  good  reason  ! ’ 

‘‘The  night  word,  to  be  used  when  two  men  meet  in 
darkness,  is  : 

“ ‘ Quest io ft : The  nights  are  very  dark  ! ’ 

“ ‘ Anszver  : I hope  they  soon  will  mend  ! ’ ” 

This  concluded  the  ceremonies,  and  the  meeting,  without 
transacting  any  further  business  of  importance,  adjourned,  all 
going  straight  to  the  bar,  where,  as  was  expected,  the  newly- 
initiated  Mollie  spent  some  money  in  treating  his  comrades. 
When,  at  about  midnight,  McKenna  and  McAndrew  left  for 
their  respective  homes,  Lawler  was  on  his  way  to  bed  more 


AfO/^£  WORK  OF  rilE  MOLLIES.  14$ 

decidedly  mellow  than  he  had  been  seen  since  the  detective’s 
arrival  in  the  place. 

In  the  cold,  silent  room  at  Fenton  Cooney’s,  very  late  that 
night,  before  retiring,  McKenna  indited  the  most  important 
report  he  had  ever  written,  minutely  detailing,  as  here 
given,  every  particular  of  the  ceremony  attending  his  initia- 
tion into  Shenandoah  Division  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  with 
the  signs,  toasts,  passwords,  and  other  matters  of  interest. 
Flis  concluding  sentence  was  : 

“ So  you  see  victory  is  won  at  last ! ” 

It  was  not  until  that  report  had  been  sealed,  stamped,  and 
deposited  in  the  post-office  box,  that  the  detective  sought 
repose,  thinking  he  would  not  immediately  leave  Shenan- 
doah. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MORE  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 

The  detective  was  now  competent  to  encounter  modern 
as  well  as  old-time  Mollie  Maguires.  He  apprehended  no 
more  trouble  from  the  questions  of  Dormer,  Lawler,  or  even 
Jack  Kehoe  himself,  and  felt  that  however  imperfect  his 
introductory  work  with  the  order  in  the  coal  country  might 
have  been,  he  was  then  prepared  to  meet  all  members  of  the 
order,  and  enabled,  from  his  late  instructions,  to  suit  his  com- 
panions. The  danger  coming  from  sudden  inquiries,  made  by 
strangers,  he  no  longer  dreaded.  Just  as  well  posted  in  the 
mysteries  of  the  society  as  anybody  well  could  be — he  had 
already  learned  that  there  were  no  degrees  beyond  the  initia- 
tory in  the  Ancient  Order — he  believed  he  could  work  his 

7 


146 


MORE  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


way  into  a division,  or  into  the  good  graces  of  the  people, 
as  well  as  any  man  with  whom  he  had  conversed.  In  fact, 
his  memory,  which  was  retentive  to  a degree,  treasured  every 
sign  and  password  and  toast  much  better,  he  discovered, 
than  did  the  minds  of  many  of  his  associates,  some  of  whom 
had  joined  the  body  many  years  before,  and  who  would 
therefore  be  presumably  far  more  familiar  with  its  interior 
workings  than  a mere  tyro  in  the  business.  As  a general 
rule  his  comrades  were  wholly  uneducated,  and  their  labo- 
rious occupations  debarred  mental  exercise.  In  this  regard 
McKenna  held  an  advantage,  and  was  really  bettei  qualihed 
for  office  in  the  division  than  any  member  he  had  ever  met. 
He  had  not  been  long  in  the  order  when  this  was  apparent 
to  his  friends,  and  they  commenced  talking  of  him  in  connec- 
tion with  one  of  the  chairs  to  be  vacated  at  the  next  annual 
election. 

Surely,  he  must  not  for  the  present  leave  Shenandoah. 

This  was  a strangely  inconsistent  society.  Having  for  the 
public  eye  a motto  to  all  appearances  as  elevated  in  tone 
as  that  of  any  secret  order  in  the  land,  and  professing  the 
noblest  moral  principles,  its  members  were,  with  some  excep- 
tions, assassins,  murderers,  incendiaries,  thieves,  midnight 
marauders,  gamblers,  and  men  who  did  not  scruple  to  per- 
form almost  any  act  of  violence  or  cowardice  that  a de- 
praved nature  or  abnormal  animal  instinct  might  conceive. 
Having  “unity  and  true  Christian  charity”  as  its  ostensible 
guiding-star,  its  constituent  parts  were  at  war  each  with  the 
other — excepting  in  the  perpetration  of  dark  deeds,  in  which 
they  stood  firmly  together — and  one  member  jealous  of  the 
power  obtained  by  another.  Professing  benignity  and  the 
utmost  benevolence,  it  was  a combination  of  enmity  and 
malice  for  purposes  of  blood  and  outrage,  brutally  manufac- 
turing widows  and  orphans — not  caring  for  and  cherishing 
them.  Its  adherents  were  certainly  not  particular  as  to  the 
moral  endowments  of  their  initiates.  McKenna  was  quickly 


Jl/O/HE  IVOKK  OF  THE  MOLLIES, 


147 


accepted,  yet  he  had  not  been  at  all  cautious  in  concealing 
from  Lawler  and  his  friends  that  he  was — at  least,  professedly, 
an  escaped  man  slayer,  and  one  who  would  not  hesitate  to 
deal  in  counterfeit  currency,  or  pursue  any  other  calling  by 
which  money  could  be  made  or  old  grudges  repaid. 

Then  there  was  Dormer,  who  had  formerly  stood  well  with 
the  organization  ; yet  he  was  by  no  means  angelic  in  disposi- 
tion or  reputation.  Nor  were  Lawler,  Monaghan,  Kehoe, 
Dolan,  and  a dozen  others,  with  whom  McKenna  had  come 
in  contact,  at  all  of  the  character  called  saintly. 

It  was  easy  to  see  how  fair  the  aims  and  objects  of  the 
original  fathers  of  the  society  might  have*  been  when  begin- 
ning the  movement.  It  could  even  be  believed  that,  in 
some  parts  of  the  country,  the  primal  endeavor  might  yet  be 
in  force,  but,  in  the  mining  districts  of  Pennsylvania,  surely 
they  had  long  since  disappeared  from  view.  Evil  had  taken 
up  the  reins  and  obtained  undisputed  sway.  Acts  of  benefi- 
cence and  charity  had  been  succeeded  by  scenes  of  violence 
and  carnage.  Wicked-minded  and  reckless  persons  were  at  the 
helm,  and  made  choice  of  their  kind  to  fill  the  ranks.  Good 
men  had  no  chance.  A murderer,  an  assassin,  a violent  party 
was  sought  after  and  coveted  by  the  divisions,  while  one 
of  known  rectitude  of  purpose  and  strict  integrity  was  not  want- 
ed, and  sure  of  being  rejected  were  his  name  by  accident  pro- 
posed. Hence  it  was  well  that  McKenna  took  the  course 
he  did  when  first  arriving  in  the  coal  regions.  His  jolly, 
devil-may-care  manner,  his  habit — not  really  a habit,  but  an 
assumption  of  one — of  being  nearly  always  intoxicated,  ready 
and  willing  to  sing,  shoot,  dance,  tight,  gamble,  face  a man  in 
a knock-down  or  a jig,  stay  out  all  night,  sleep  all  day,  tell  a 
story,  rob  a hen-roost  or  a traveler — ^just  suited  those  with 
whom  he  daily  came  in  contact. 

Returning  to  a date  preceding  McKenna’s  induction  to 
Shenandoah  Division,  let  me  bring  in  some  of  the  acts  com- 
mitted by  the  Mollies  and  their  opponents,  forming  a kind  of 


148 


MORE  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


introduction  to  others  of  wider  celebrity,  if  not  of  greater  mag- 
nitude, which  it  will  soon  be  the  chronicler’s  duty  to  narrate. 

It  was  the  middle  of  March,  1874,  that  .McKenna  was 
invited  to  witness  one  of  the  milder  amusements  of  the 
rougher  portion  of  the  people  of  the  mining  country — a dog- 
fight. The  canine  contest  was  appointed  to  occur  at  Num- 
ber Three  Breaker,  and  McAndrew,  Ferguson,  and  Monaghan 
were  the  detective’s  companions.  The  locality  was  only  a 
mile  from  town,  and  the  attendance  was  large,  some  two 
hundred  men  and  overgrown  youths  having  gathered  to  see 
the  expected  ferocious  proceeding.  But  all  were  fated  to 
disappointment.  'From  a failure  to  come  to  time  on  the 
part  of  one  of  the  owners  and  backers,  the  ring  was  just  one 
dog  short.  The  animal  on  hand  had  to  be  taken  home,  his  pug- 
nacity unsatisfied,  and  the  spectators,  unable  to  get  up  a bat- 
tle between  two  human  beasts,  were  compelled  to  disperse, 
considerably  disgusted  with  this  peaceful  result  of  what  earlier 
bid  fair  to  be  a savage  and  enjoyable  sensation.  On  the 
route  homeward,  McAndrew  said  he  would  stop  at  a house 
were  he  was  acquainted,  and  see  if  a dog  could  not  be  pro- 
cured. The  attempt  did  not  succeed,  but  as  the  men  were 
standing  near  the  place.  Dr.  Shultz,  who  was  known  to  nearly 
all  the  party,  came  that  way.  He  paused  to  chat  with 
McAndrew,  and  among  other  matters  stated  that  a man, 
named  Peter  McNellis,  had  been  shot  the  previous  night  at 
Jenkins’  Patch.  The  deed  transpired  at  McNellis’  own 
house,  and  was  the  work  of  one  Canfield,  whose  father  was 
shot,  but  not  mortally,  the  preceding  Saturday.  McNellis 
had  been  attacked  while  in  his  dwelling,  but  the  doctof 
could  not  say  if  he  were  dead,  or  would  die,  but  the  hurt 
was  pronounced  very  serious  by  the  attending  surgeon. 
McNellis’  brother  had  been  three  times  notified  by  the 
Mollies  to  quickly  leave  the  neighborhood,  or  accept  the 
consequences.  The  missives  conveying  this  delicate  bit  of 
information  all  bore  the  signature  of  “ Mollie.”  The 


MOJ^E  WOE  A'  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  149 

McNellis  family,  it  appears,  chose  to  accept  the  “conse- 
quences.” 

When  the  doctor  had  ridden  away,  Ferguson  exclaimed, 
referring  to  McNellis : 

“ May  he  never  rise  again,  the  scoundrel ! ” 

In  which  wish  all  his  comrades  heartily  concurred,  and 
McKenna,  seeing  that  he  was  expected  to  express  himself 
regarding  a Sheet  Iron  lad,  complied,  saying  : 

“ An’  may  the  divil  fly  away  wid  his  sowl ! ” 

On  the  morning  of  .the  twentieth  of  the  same  month,  one 
Dougherty  was  shot  while  passing  from  home  to  his  work. 
It  was  reported  that  the  victim  in  this  case  was  a Mollie, 
and  the  outrage  had  been  brought  about  by  some  of  the 
dreaded  Iron  Clads. 

This  made  the  third  or  fourth  person  that  had  been  killed 
during  the  time  of  the  operative’s  residence  in  the  vicinity 
of  Shenandoah — and  all  before  he  had  become  a member  of 
the  organization  of  Mollie  Maguires.  I make  mention  of 
this,  in  the  present  connection,  from  the  reason  that  enemies 
have  undertaken  to  instruct  the  public  that  until  my  detec- 
tive was  sent  to  and  appeared  in  the  coal  region,  and  was  duly 
constituted  a member  of  the  order  of  Mollies,  the  murderous 
society  lay  comparatively  dormant.  This  endeavour  to  have 
it  seem  that  McKenna  fomented  discord  and  caused  crimes  to 
be  perpetrated  which  led  to  the  arrest  and  punishment  of  his 
companions  and  intimates,  is  so  absurd,  that  only  those  who 
desire  to  do  so,  put  any  faith  in  it,  and  for  such  persons  and 
their  wretched  opinions  I have  supreme  contempt.  McKenna 
was  constantly  instructed  to  avoid  prompting  outrages.  He 
obeyed  his  orders  faithfully.  The  truth  is,  he  entered  the 
stronghold  of  a gang  of  assassins,  and,  despite  his  presence, 
they  succeeded  in  doing  a few  murders.  He  could  not  stop 
them.  Before  closing,  I shall  show  some  of  the  troubles 
that  he  did  succeed  in  preventing.  Dating  from  1868,  and 
from  that  year  down  to  1873,  i^ii^trder  and  other  violence  ran 


MO/^E  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


150 

riot  in  the  coal  districts.  Since  the  authorites  have  been 
able,  through  our  exertions,  to  punish  assassins  and  conspir- 
ators, there  has  been  a noticeable  decrease  in  acts  to  be 
punished.  When  the  Mollies’  ever-convenient  alibi  was 
shattered  and  scattered  to  the  wind,  they  had  nothing  left  to 
fall  back  upon,  and  there  was  no  chance  for  them.  They  were 
forced  to  flee  the  country,  or  remain  and  behave  like  good 
and  orderly  citizens. 

When  Me  Andrew  heard  of  the  last  act  of  blood — the 
shooting  of  Dougherty — (this  was  not  the  man  of  the  same 
name — who  was  no  Mollie — causing  so  much  trouble  at 
Tamaqua,  as  related  in  another  and  preceding  chapter) — 
he  was  very  indignant,  and  passionately  exclaimed  that  “if 
such  things  continued,  there  would  soon  be  regular  war  in 
Skuylkill  county  ! ” 

These  words  must  have  reached  the  ears  of  some  of  the 
Chain  Gang — or  those  who  were  not  Mollies — as,  only  a 
few  days  subsequently,  a message  was  received  by  Muff'  Law- 
ler that  a portion  of  the  Modocs  (Germans)  and  Sheet  Irons 
had  made  common  cause  against  McAndrew,  Monaghan, 
Garritty,  Ferguson,  Lawler,  and  several  others,  all  of  whom 
would  meet’the  fate  of  Dougherty  if  they  did  not  cease  their 
cruel  work,  or  depart  from  that  portion  of  the  State. 
When  Monaghan  heard  about  this,  he  said  : 

“ Some  fire  will  fly  and  some  blood  be  spilled  before  / get 
out  of  this  neighborhood  ! ” 

He  evidently  did  not  intend  to  be  frightened  away  with 
merely  hard  words. 

An  incident,  which  may  be  given  in  this  connection,  was 
related  by  Lawler  to  McKenna,  one  night,  after  his  return 
from  a meeting  of  the  Miners’  and  Laborers’  Association,  to 
which  Muff  also  belonged.  It  was  about  a Welsh  boss  in 
one  of  the  mines,  not  far  from  Shenandoah,  and  had  only 
recently  occurred.  According  to  Lawler,  this  superintendent, 
whose  name  was  not  given,  had  been  discharging  all  the 


MO/H£  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  I5I 

Irishmen  operating  under  him  and  putting  his  country- 
men in  their  places.  The  natural  result  was,  the  Mollies 
notified  the  boss  that  he  must  leave.  He  disregarded  the 
injunction,  saying  that  it  would  “make  no  difference,  if  he 
obeyed,  as  the  proprietors  would  run  the  colliery  if  he  were 
in  h— 1 ! ” 

A few  days  after  using  this  language,  a man  visited  the 
exasperated  Welshman  and  gave  him  a warning  letter. 

“ Where  are  you  from  ? ” asked  the  boss. 

“ From  h — 1 ! ” answered  the  messenger,  and  quickly  dis- 
appeared. 

This  boss  did  not  listen  to  the  warning,  and  as  a conse- 
quence, the  Mollies,  in  a body,  demons  as  they  were,  went 
to  his  house,  at  the  dead  hour  of  night,  broke  up  his  furniture, 
ill-treated  his  family,  and  taking  the  stubborn  fellow  into  the 
yard,  in  his  night  garments,  beat  him  with  clubs  until  he  was 
nearly  dead.  He  was  satisfied  from  this  treatment,  which 
might  be  called  striking  evidence,  that  the  colliery  was  not 
exactly  a healthy  place  of  residence  or  refuge  for  him,  and, 
as  soon  as  able  to  do  so,  removed  to  Pottsville.  In  this 
case,  as  in  many  others,  no  arrests  were  made,  and  no  efforts 
put  forth  to  hunt  up  the  guilty  parties.  It  could  hardly  be 
expected  that  there  would  be,  when  it  is  considered  that  the 
Mollies  controlled  the  magistrates  and  other  officials  of  the 
city,  and  partly  those  of  the  county. 

McKenna,  judging  from  Lawler’s  manner  while  relating  the 
story,  more  than  from  the  words  he  used,  suspected  that  the 
beating  of  the  Welshman  had  been  performed  by  him,  or  at 
least  by  men  acting  under  his  orders.  Still,  as  he  was  not 
yet  a member  of  the  Mollies,  he  could  not  be  expected  to 
have  reliable  information  on  the  subject.  Mike  concluded  his 
story  by  saying  that  he  never  allowed  his  men  to  know  about 
his  movements,  and  ordinarily,  when  anything  was  to  be 
done,  he  preferred  attending  to  it  himself  rather  than  let 
others  into  the  secret. 


152 


MORE  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


“So  there’s  a ring  within  a ring ! ” mentally  ejaculated 
the  detective,  as  Lawler  left  him  to  attend  upon  a customer 
at  the  bar. 

The  strike  of  that  winter,  which  has  before  been  alluded 
to,  ended  nigh  the  first  of  April,  1874.  About  this  time 
McKenna  heard,  from  one  Foley,  living  near  Indian  Ridge 
colliery,  that  at  the  water  station  a man  named  Keating 
had  been  shot  and  instantly  killed.  The  event  occurred 
about  five  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  and,  as  usual,  the  mur- 
derer made  his  escape.  It  was  again  charged  that  the  Sheet 
Iron  lads  were  the  guilty  parties.  Lawler  and  the  detective 
were  at  the  colliery  looking  for  work  to  do,  when  they 
learned  about  Keating’s  death. 

Another  of  the  more  innocent  diversions  of  the  Sleepers 
was  the  indulgence  in  cock-fighting.  In  this,  from  his  known 
intimacy  with  Lawler,  the  operative  was  naturally  expected 
to  take  part,  and  he  did  not  disappoint  his  friends.  Know- 
ing that  whatever  he  did  he  must,  under  the  circumstances, 
gain  fast  hold  upon  the  good  will  of  Lawler  and  the  remain- 
der of  the  gang,  thus  exhibiting  his  qualifications  for  a good 
Mollie,  he  strained  every  faculty  Avith  that  view,  and  even  con- 
sented to  take  charge  of  the  interests  of  the  tavern  keeper  in 
the  impending  chicken-fight,  acting  as  trainer,  manager,  and 
all  hands,  in  getting  ready  the  birds  for  the  great  occasion. 
As  fortune  would  have  it,  in  his  boyhood  he  had  received  a 
few  lessons  in  the  art,  hence  was  not  wholly  unprepared  for 
the  position  and  its  duties.  Having  ten  of  the  game  chickens 
to  commence  with,  he  devoted  considerable  time  and  atten- 
tion to  their  breaking-in  for  the  pit. 

The  o{)posing  birds  were  bred  in  the  vicinity  of  Girardville, 
coming  from  the  flock  of,  and  to  be  handled  by,  one  Dennis 
Murphy. 

Here  is  something  of  the  style  in  which  McKenna  trained 
I.awler’s  pets.  In  the  first  place  the  chickens  were  clipped 
and  gaffed  in  scientific  style  ; that  is,  their  spurs  were  skib 


M0/?£  IVORfC  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  1 53 

fully  iimputated  and  steel  gaffs,  or  artificial  spurs,  fitted  in 
their  places.  The  fowl  were  then  physicked  with  a soft 
compound  consisting  of  oil,  bread,  and  milk,  and  some  sugar, 
which  reduced  them  somewhat  in  weight,  the  process  con- 
tinuing until  the  proper  shrinkage  had  been  accomplished. 
Empty  barrels  were  taken,  and  a piece  of  one  stave  care- 
fully removed,  forming  a coop,  which  was  properly  venti- 
lated, and  each  chicken  thus  given  a separate  shelter. 
After  their  usual  strength  had  returned,  daily  exercise  of  a 
peculiar  kind,  calculated  to  give  them  muscle  and  endurance, 
was  entered  upon.  McKenna  would  get  upon  his  knees,  on 
an  old  mattress  spread  on  the  ground  in  the  back  yard  of 
the  tavern,  for  the  purpose,  and  taking  a bird  between  his 
two  hands,  toss  it  high  in  the  air,  then  catch  it  again  and 
repeat  the  process,  until  he  was  weary  or  the  rooster  was 
nearly  exhausted,  when  it  would  be  returned  to  its  coop. 
Every  bird  had  to  take  this  lesson  once  each  day,  and  under 
it  all  rapidly  gained  in  fighting  qualities.  No  soft  food  was 
now  permitted,  but  they  received  plenty  of  water  and  corn, 
wheat  and  oats.  If  one  refused  to  feed  he  was  immediately 
presented  with  a supply  of  raw  apples.  Out  of  the  ten  thus 
treated  only  seven  came  out  capable  of  contesting  in  the  pit. 
Some  of  them,  less  than  one  year  of  age,  were  called  stags. 
Those  more  than  a twelvemonth  old  assumed  the  dignity 
and  cognomen  of  game-cocks. 

On  the  occasion  selected  for  the  match,  Lawler’s  house  and 
grounds  presented  the  characteristics  of  a grand  gala-day. 
Murphy  was'early  on  the  spot — scarce  two  hundred  yards  from 
the  tavern — where  were  congregated  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren to  the  number  of  two  hundred  or  more,  all  interested  in 
seeing  mid  enjoying  the  exciting  sport. 

There  was  at  first  a great  difference  in  opinion  as  to  who 
should  be  the  winner,  the  bets  ranging  from  five  to  ten  dol- 
lars each  battle,  and  being  plentiful  for  both  sides.  Of 
course  Mike  Lawler  was  reaping  at  the  same  time  a plenti- 

7* 


154 


MOJ^E  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


fill  harvest  through  the  sale  of  drinkables  at  the  bar.  It 
employed  his  own  services  and  those  of  his  wife  to  keep 
pace  with  the  impatient  orders  of  the  thirsty  ones.  Mean- 
time, McKenna,  dressed  for  the  occasion  in  his  Sunday 
clothes,  with  his  hair  straightened  out  and  his  beard  trimmed, 
wearing  a new,  soft  hat,  which  was  the  envy  of  all  the  men 
and  the  wonder  of  all  the  women,  was  attending  to  his  part 
of  the  business. 

At  first  the  odds  ran  heavy  in  favor  of  Murphy’s  brood, 
— and  they  certainly  were  very  handsome  chickens ; but 
when  McKenna  put  aside  the  brand-new  hat,  and,  with  a red 
bandanna  handkerchief  wound  in  the  shape  of  a turban  round 
his  red  head,  a strap  encircling  his  waist,  coat  and  vest  off, 
sleeves  rolled  up,  and  game  chicken  in  hand,  entered  the 
ring,  the  betting  changed,  and  the  difference  was  two  to  one 
in  favor  of  the  mufflers.  They  were  certainly  ferocious-look- 
ing bipeds. 

It  is  needless  to  attempt  a description  of  the  chicken-match. 
Appropriate  language  fails.  But  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that 
Lawler’s  mufflers  carried  off  the  honors.  As  a consequence, 
McKenna  acquired  a wide-spread  reputation  throughout  the 
mines  as  a manager  of  such  affairs. 

Murphy  accepted  defeat  all  in  good  part,  as  everything 
had  been  fair  and  above-board,  and  challenged  Muff  Lawler 
for  a return  match,  to  take  place  early  the  next  month,  at 
his  house,  near  Girardville.  This  was  promptly  accepted  by 
the  Shenandoah  party,  and  time  named,  when  the  crowd  dis- 
persed, leaving  the  innkeeper  to  count  over  his  day’s  gains, 
which  were  not  inconsiderable. 

Of  course  McKenna’s  services  were  once  more  in  requisi- 
tion to  train  the  birds,  and  afterward  to  fight  them.  When 
the  morning  arrived,  he  had  to  carry  the  chickens  on  his 
back,  in  a bag,  a distance  of  over  three  miles  to  Connor’s 
Patch,  where  Murphy  lived.  The  road  was  rough,  his  bur- 
den not  light ; and  when  he  returned,  again  the  winner  of  the 


MORE  WORK  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


155 


fight,  to  Shenandoah,  late  at  night,  from  Girardville,  he  was 
weary  enough,  and  heartily  sick  of  cock-fighting  as  a profes- 
sion, or  even  for  amusement. 

There  was  a great  crowd  assembled  at  the  Patch — if  any- 
thing, larger  than  the  one  Lawler  had  secured — and  Murphy, 
though  twice  defeated,  said  he  was  “ enthirely  contint  wid 
the  results  ! ” So  were  most  of  those  in  attendance. 

Lawler  gave  a treat  to  all  the  “boys”  that  night,  as  he 
* was  confidently  expected  to  do  after  winning  two  fights  in 
succession,  and  everything  passed  of  smoothly,  with  a single 
exception.  One  Dick  Flynn,  charged  to  the  muzzle  with  bad 
liquor,  and  being  naturally  of  a fiery  disposition,  was  very 
mad  because  he  had  lost  five  dollars  which  he  ventured  on 
Murphy’s  chickens,  and  wanted  to  fight  Lawler,  to  secure  his 
revenge.  The  innkeeper  having  other  duties  to  attend  to, 
besides  being  in  a sportive  humor  from  the  success  of  the 
day,  only  laughed  at  his  big  antagonist,  telling  him  to  “ call 
at  another  time,  when  he  could  have  all  the  fighting  he 
might  feel  in  want  of.” 

Flynn  lived  in  the  town  of  Colorado,  was  a known  ruffian, 
capable  of  shooting  a man  from  behind  a bush,  or  perform- 
ing almost  any  infamous  act,  and  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
Lawler  had  rather  make  no  attack  upon  him.  Be  this  as 
it  may,  Flynn  left  late  at  night,  swearing  many  oaths  and 
loudly  threatening  that  he  would  beat  Lawler  or  kill 
McKenna,  his  “ butty,”  if  he  had  to  wait  a dozen  years  for 
the  opportunity.  It  would  appear,  from  an  incident  tran- 
spiring a few  weeks  later,  that  Flynn  had  a good  memory,  and 
did  his  best  to  carry  this  promise  into  execution.  The  event, 
however,  will  have  to  await  relation  in  another  chapter. 


156 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A ROUGH  JOURNEY  AND  A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 

A FEW  days  after  McKenna’s  initiation  into  the  Mollie 
Maguires,  he  was  surprised,  upon  entering  Lawler’s  bar-room, 
to  find  his  friend  with  one  limb  bandaged,  sitting  by  the  fire, 
in  an  easy  chair,  while  Mrs.  Lawler  busied  herself  behind  the 
counter  attending  to  the  spirituous  wants  of  several  acquaint- 
ances and  patrons,  and  Mike  commenting  upon  some  serious 
difficulty  which  had  befallen  him.  In  response  to  an  inquiry 
by  one  of  the  new  arrivals,  the  landlord,  between  groans  and 
grimaces,  informed  those  present  that  he  had  received  a shot 
in  the  leg,  the  night  before,  while  attempting  to  quell  a diffi- 
culty in  front  of  Cleary’s  drinking  place.  He  was  quite  seri- 
ously wounded  ; his  countenance  wore  a pale  and  anxious 
appearance,  and  Mrs.  Lawler,  only  recently  recovered  from 
a protracted  and  dangerous  illness,  was  nervous  and  low- 
spirited.  McKenna  promptly  gave  assistance,  made  himself 
generally  useful  about  the  premises,  and  also  attended  to 
some  outside  business  for  the  tavern-keeper.  When  the 
people  had  all  dispersed,  Lawler  proceeded  to  show  him  his 
hurt,  which  the  quick  eye  of  the  detective  was  not  long  in 
discovering  must  have  occurred  as  a result  of  Mike’s  care- 
less handling  of  his  own  revolver,  and  not  through  any  assault 
by  a second  person.  The  bullet  penetrated  the  anterior 
portion  of  the  right  thigh,  ranged  downward,  deflecting  a little 
toward  the  left,  and  finally  found  lodgment  near  the  skin 
immediately  above  the  knee-joint,  whence  the  scalpel  of  the 
surgeon  had  already  removed  it.  There  was  a long,  painful 
and  dangerous  channel  ploughed  through  the  muscles,  but 
happily  for  Lawler  and  his  family  no  important  vein  or  ar- 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


157 


tery  had  been  severed.  If  properly  cared  for,  there  was 
reason  to  believe  the  healing  process  might  be  accomplished 
by  nature  without  the  sloughing  away  of  the  coats  of  the  fem- 
oral artery.  Should  these  finally  give  way,  the  end  would 
certainly  ensue,  as  nothing  could  save  the  victim  from  bleed- 
ing to  death. 

“Tell  me,  thrue  and  honest  now,”  said  McKenna,  “how 
this  thing  happened.  It  is  plain  enough  that  it  wor  your 
own  hand  that  did  it.” 

“ Why  the  d — 1 do  you  say  that  ? ” 

“Sure,  an’  you  needn’t  take  me  for  a gomersal,  criiddy 
from  the  bogs  ! I kin  see,  wid  half  an  eye,  that  nobody  could 
iver  shoot  ye  like  this,  exceptin’  Mike  Lawler  himself  ! ” 

“ Thrue  fur  ye  ! ” unwillingly  answered  Lawler,  making  a 
comical  grimace  and  groaning  aloud  with  the  pain,  as  he 
reached  for  his  staff.  “ That’s  the  raal  fact  of  the  matther  ! 
But  how  the  d — 1 you  came  to  know ’t,  is  more’n  I can  tell ! ” 
“ O,  its  aisy  enough!  Men  don’t  lie  down,  as  a general 
thing,  to  get  shot ; then  there’s  no  hole  in  your  clothing,  so 
the  pistol  must  have  been  in  your  pocket  when  it  ex- 
ploded I ” 

“Well,  never  mind  that  now,”  whispered  Lawler,  turning 
an  uneasy  glance  toward  his  wife,  who  was  jingling  the 
glasses  as  she  cleansed  them,  and  hence  heard  nothing  of 
the  communication.  “ Will  ye  kindly  act  as  me  crutch  ’till  I 
goes  to  thedocthor?  He  made  me  promise  to  have  it 
dressed  the  day ; an’  by  me  sowl,  I’d  about  as  soon  hev  the 
leg  cut  off  at  wonst  1 ” 

“ Certainly,”  said  the  agent,  “ I’ll  help  ye  wid  pleasure ! ” 
And  he  aided  the  injured  man  to  rise ; but  he  could  not 
stand,  and  was  eased  back  into  his  chair. 

Mo-vrone ! But  ye  can’t  walk  I Ye  must  not  try  it  I 
I’ll  go  fetch  the  docthor  right  here  1 So  kape  quiet,  an’  I’ll 
soon  be  back.  An’  while  I’m  gone.  I’ll  jist  step  in  at  the 
carpenter’s  and  tell  him  to  make  ye  a crutch  ; fur  sure,  an’ 


158 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


if  ye  iver  intend  for  to  save  yer  leg  y’ll  want  a substitute  for 
a while  ! ” 

Muff  Lawler  was  so  nigh  a dead  faint  that  he  could  not 
thank  McKenna,  who  scampered  away  to  bring  the  surgeon. 

The  wound  once  dressed,  and  Lawler  comfortably  reclin- 
ing on  his  bed,  upstairs,  McKenna  volunteered  to  act  as 
nurse,  while  the  good  woman  of  the  house  gave  attention  to 
the  bar  and  all  below.  Then  it  was  that  the  operative  learned 
how  the  injury  had  been  inflicted.  As  he  shrewdly  guessed, 
Muff  had  hurt  himself  while  awkwardly  returning  a revolver 
to  his  pantaloons  pocket,  where  he  carelessly  carried  it,  with 
the  lock  set  preparatory  for  sudden  use.  Lawler  closed  the 
revelation  with  this  unexplained  but  furtive  statement  : 

“An’  hadn’t  it  been  for  the  accident,  Fergus  would  have 
made  bloody  work  somewhere  before  the  mornin’  ! ” 

Of  course  McKenna  did  not  press  an  inquiry  as  to  the 
job  he  and  P'ergus  were  attending  to,  knowing  that  Lawler 
would  tell  it  of  his  own  accord,  if  left  alone.  All  that  day, 
and  until  late  at  night,  the  operative  was  employed  as  a 
nurse  to  the  wounded  Bodymaster. 

A few  days  later  the  last  meeting  in  April  occurred,  at 
Lawler’s,  and  a young  man  named  Dean  was  duly  initiated, 
McKenna  prominently  assisting  in  the  ceremony.  Dean 
subsequently  admitted  to  the  agent  that  he  had  been  better 
than  a year  endeavoring  to  reach  the  interior  of  that  divi- 
sion, but  somehow  his  moral  character  was  either  too  good 
or  too  bad  all  the*  while  ; but  a little  serious  trouble  that  he 
had  recently  fallen  into  made  him  a desirable  applicant,  or 
removed  an  objection,  and  he  was  at  once  notified  of  his 
acceptance.  It  seemed  to  McKenna,  under  such  a state  of 
affairs,  that  he  was  extremely  fortunate  in  gaining  for  himself 
such  prompt  admission  to  the  order. 

McAndrew,  it  appeared,  had  not  been  inside  a division 
room  in  more  than  three  months,  having,  as  will  be  remem- 
bered, only  acted  in  an  outside  capacity  at  the  detective’s 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


159 

initiation — as  he  had  temporarily  resigned — which  was  an 
accepted  custom  in  the  society,  since  the  troubles  with  the 
Church — to  attend  for  a season  to  his  neglected  religious 
duties.  Now,  having  been  good  during  one-quarter  of  a year, 
he  could  come  back  and  enact  the  part  of  a Mollie  Maguire 
for  the  remaining  three-quarters.  This  ingenious  and  handy 
manner  of  compromise  also  brought  home  a number  of  the 
brothers,  lately  absenting  themselves  for  the  same  purpose, 
and  Lawler’s  living  room  was  soon  uncomfortably  small  for 
their  accommodation. 

At  the  same  meeting  Lawler  gave  a rather  remarkable  ad- 
dress, in  the  course  of  which  he  said  the  time  had  nearly  arrived 
for  the  annual  meeting  of  their  State  Convention  at  Pittsburg, 
and  he  was  requested,  through  a letter  from  Barney  Dolan, 
County  Delegate,  to  advise  his  division  members  of  the  neces- 
sity for  raising — the  amount  and  the  request  to  apply  to  all  the 
bodies  in  Schuylkill  County — the  sum  of  nine  dollars  toward 
paying  the  Delegate’s  expenses  to  the  west,  and  also  to  New 
York.  In  the  last-named  place  he  would  see  the  National 
Secretary,  on  important  business.  Without  this  action  it  would 
be  impossible  for  the  Division  to  secure  the  “goods” — signs 
and  passwords — for  the  current  quarter ; and  Mike  eloquently 
urged  that  it  was  always  desirable  to  keep  the  body  in  fair 
standing  with  the  State  and  National  officials.  The  pompous 
Bodymaster,  still  suffering  considerably  from  his  wound,  kept 
his  chair  while  he  enlarged  upon  the  prospect  before  the 
brotherhood.  He  believed,  if  the  fraternity  would  stand  by 
him,  he  could  swell  their  ranks  to  at  least  one  hundred  good 
men  and  true,  before  the  commencement  of  another  year.  Of 
course  the  speech,  or  talk,  was  purely  conversational,  rough, 
and  uncouth,  and  not  particularly  coherent,  but  it  touched 
its  hearers  and  was  received  with  applause — which,  however, 
was  necessarily  suppressed,  because  of  the  family  being  so 
near.  It  was  not  long,  after  the  close  of  the  harangue,  before 
the  needed  funds  were  in  the  Bodymaster’ s possession.  The 


i6o 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


meeting  closed  soon  afterward,  and  the  hours  following  to 
midnight  were  passed  in  carousal,  singing,  and  card-playing, 
when  the  house  was  deserted,  the  doors  fastened,  and  the 
Lawler  family  presently  dreaming  the  dreams  of  the  just. 

At  about  this  date,  appreciating  the  fact  that  he  would  not 
soon  find  remunerative  labor,  and  still  desiring  to  remain  in 
tlie  mountains,  McKenna  saw  the  necessity  for  a fresh 
source  from  which  ostensibly  to  obtain  the  amount  of  money 
that  he  must,  in  due  course  of  events,  disburse  in  the  commu- 
nity. The  cash  must  be  spent,  and  a valid  reason  for  its 
expenditure,  a natural  origin  for  the  fund,  must  be  furnished, 
otherwise  his  associates  might  begin  to  suspect  there  was 
something  about  him  they  did  not  fully  comprehend.  It 
was  then  he  took  Mike  Lawler  further  into  his  confidence 
and  told  him  a new  secret,  to  the  effect  that  he,  McKenna, 
owned  a certain  house  and  lot  in  the  city  of  Buffalo,  New 
York,  which  was  leased  from  year  to  year,  and,  through  the 
medium  of  an  attorney,  named  Clinton,  who  was  in  his  inter- 
est, and  who  knew  the  address  of  some  of  his  relatives  in 
Philadelphia,  he  received  twenty-five  dollars  a month  as  rental 
for  the  property.  This  story  served  two  purposes.  It  cov- 
ered up  occasional  letters  that  the  postmaster  of  Shenandoah 
must  know  he  received,  and  increased  his  income  enough, 
with  the  alleged  pension  from  the  government  and  the 
money  made  in  his  pretended  disposal  of  bogus  currency,  to 
account -for  all  he  spent  in  the  mining  country.  His  wear- 
ing of  poor  clothes  and  wishing  to  stay  in  the  vicinity  was 
consistent  with  his  mission,  which  was,  outwardly,  to  escape 
the  eyes  of  the  officers  of  the  law.  It  seemed  hardly  possi- 
• ble  that,  under  these  safeguards,  his  real  purpose  would  be 
revealed. 

The  fourth  day  of  May,  Lawler,  having  so  far  regained  the 
use  of  his  leg  as  to  hobble  about  on  a crutch,  aided  by  a 
blackthorn  stick,  determined  to  visit  Barney  Dolan,  at  Big 
Mine  Run,  in  person,  obtain  the  “goods”  for  the  quarter^ 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


l6l 


and  turn  over  the  collection  made  for  the  use  of  the  County 
Delegate.  McKenna  was  invited  to  accompany  him.  His 
arm  was  needed  in  helping  Mike  into  and  out  of  the  buggy — • 
besides,  he  liked  to  have  some  one  about  who  could  listen  as 
well  as  talk.  It  was  impossible  for  the  agent  to  refuse,  had 
he  so  desired,  which  he  did  not.  He  might  learn  something 
of  importance,  at  small  cost,  and  make  the  acquaintance  of 
Dolan,  who  was  then  looked  up  to  as  the  highest  Mollie  in 
all  the  county.  So  McKenna  started  out  with  his  Body- 
master  for  Big  Mine  Run. 

Riding  over  the  country,  although  the  air  seemed  chilly, 
was  not  really  unpleasant,  and  the  trip  among  the  collieries, 
enlivened  by  cheerful  conversation  and  spicy  anecdote,  in 
which  both  of  the  men  participated,  came  to  an  end  before 
either  person  expected.  The  big,  good-natured  County 
Delegate,  who  kept  a small  roadside  shebeen-shop,  patron- 
ized by  all  travelers  and  miners,  was  very  much  pleased  to 
see  his  company,  and  he  came  out  to  the  buggy,  before  they 
alighted,  to  greet  the  men,  personally  helping  Lawler  to  per- 
form that,  to  him,  slow  and  painful  act. 

Barney  Dolan  was  a large,  muscular  man,  of  some  forty 
years,  much  after  the  style  of  Dormer,  of  Pottsville,  in  face 
and  feature,  but  by  no  means  so  tall  or  heavy. 

^ After  putting  Mike  in  a chair,  of  course  Dolan  had  to  be 
informed  of  the  particulars  of  Lawler’s  accident,  brief  men- 
tion of  which  he  had  seen  in  the  Shenandoah  Herald.  The 
old  stoij,  of  being  fired  upon  by  an  unseen  person,  who  he 
more  than  half  suspected  to  be  Dick  Flynn,  of  Colorado 
Colliery,  with  whom  he  once  had  a difficulty,  was  related  to 
Barney,  with  many  adornments.  As  another  matter  of  course, 
Dolan  was  profuse  in  sympathetic  condolements  with  the  in- 
jured man.  When  the  County  Delegate’s  back  was  turned, 
Muff  Lawler  sent  an  audacious  wink  of  intelligence  to 
McKenna  not  to  spoil  his  story  by  letting  slip  the  truth. 
The  detective,  who  was  contentedly  smoking  his  short  pipe, 


i62 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


and  sip])ing  some  strong  poteen,  sagely  shook  his  head,  as 
much  as  to  say  : “ Don’t  fear  ! I’ll  keep  your  secret !” 
Ikirney — whose  name,  from  his  habit  of  smooth,  sweet 
talk,  evidently  should  have  been  Blarney,  for  he  must  have 
kissed  the  famous  stone  on  that  famous  Irish  castle  more  times 
than  once — proceeded  to  dilate  upon  the  able  manner  in  which 
he  would  represent  the  county  in  the  State  branch  of  the  order, 
the  great  things  he  was  about  to  do,  and  how,  to  sum  up  all,  he 
believed  it  was  the  bounden  duty  of  the  Mollies  to  re-elect 
him  Delegate  at  the  ensuing  county  convention.  To  all  of 
which  egotistical  bombast  Mike  and  his  fellow-traveler  list- 
ened with  an  appearance  of  wrapped  attention  reflecting 
credit  upon  their  capacity  for  acting  that  which  they  could 
not  feel.  Both  really  enjoyed  his  self-sufliciency — especially 
Lawler,  who  was  afflicted  with  the  same  difficulty,  as  he  was 
well  aware,  when  he  got  about  half-seas-over.  After  dinner, 
which  was  spread  in  the  rear  apartment,  and  the  enjoyment 
of* parting  glass  number  one,  at  the  invitation  of  the  detec- 
tive, the  visitors  proposed  to  leave. 

Dolan  made  a little  speech  over  the  toast  : “ The  An- 
cient Order — may  it  prosper  and  be  j)eaceful  ! ” offered  by 
McKenna,  and  among  other  things  remarked  : 

“ Be  them  live  crasses,  but  I’m  glad  indade  to  have  cosh- 
ered wid  ye,  mabouchal ! An’  when  ye  come  here  again, 
let  it  not  be  for  a mere  kailyee,  but  bring  your  clothes  wid 
ye,  and  stop  as  long  as  ye  plaze  ! An’,  Mike  Lawler — bould 
fellow — you’ll  show  yourself  a gorsoon  bo.,  if  ye  let  that  lad 
slip  away  from  your  town  at  all ! Kape  him  there  ! Ye  greatly 
nade  such  stuff  as  he’s  made  of  to  bring  the  body  up  to  the 
correct  standard  ! Not  to  say  that  ye  are  a wake  Body- 
master,  by  any  manes,  fur  ye  are  not,  as  I give  ye  credit  for 
doing  hapes  of  good  things  ! But  ye  can  have  many  more 
l)Owerful  members,  now  that  ye  have  made  the  proper  com- 
mencement ! What  you  do  is  done  nately,  an’  if  I do  say 
it,  you  have  some  few  fellows  over  there  capable  of  doin’  ‘ a 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


163 

clane  job,’  an’  what  ye  want  is  more  of  ’em  ! Be  the  same 
token,  I may  tell  ye,  Mike,  that  Shenandoah  Division  is  the 
very  first  to  send  in  the  allowance  an’  take  away  the  ‘ goods  ’ ! 
Oh,  bad  ’cess  to  me,  but  I’m  gone  a s/iaughran,  an’  come 
near  forgettin’  to  remember  that  ye  hawe  paid  yer  money, 
but  not  got  yer  property  ! Well,  never  mind  ! It’s  all  owin’ 
to  the  poteen  ! Jest  step  in  the  other  room — McKenna  will 
excuse  us — an’  I’ll  instruct  ye  in  the  shortest  time  possi- 
ble!” 

“Business  is  business  !”  said  McKenna.  “Certainly  I’ll 
excuse  ye  1 ” 

The  succeeding  conference  between  the  County  Delegate 
and  the  Bodymaster  was  of  short  duration,  and,  after  parting 
glass  number  two,  or  three — the  last  one  through  the 
thoroughly  aroused  generosity  of  Barney — the  visitors  really 
bid  the  host  farewell  and  made  their  departure. 

The  “goods,”  Lawler  had  learned  from  Dolan,  were  given 
.out  in  Ireland,  the  transatlantic  headquarters  of  the  society, 
and  thence  transmitted  to  this  country  by  a man  named 
Murphy,  employed  as  a steward  on  one  of  the  Inman  line 
of  steamships  plying  between  Liverpool  and  New  York. 
From  the  latter  city  the  National  officers  distributed  them 
to  the  different  divisions  in  this  country. 

No  incident  worthy  of  mention  occurred  to  the  two 
Mollies  until  they  reached  the  vicinity  of  Colorado  Colliery, 
where  they  paused  to  see  Hugh  Mulligan,  a friend  of  Lawler’s, 
who  was,  and  for  some  time  had  been,  very  ill.  Knowing,  they 
had  reached  a dangerous  locality,  as  this  was  the  stamping- 
ground  of  Dick  Flynn,  an  inveterate  enemy,  yet  they  had 
no  ap))rehension  that  they  would  come  across  him,  and  in- 
deed were  not  of  the  class  of  men  much  reckoning  upon 
serious  consequences  should  they  prove  thus  unfortunate. 

Hugh  MCilhgar  lived  in  a large  frame  house,  at  the  top  of 
the  hill.  When  they  stopped,  finding  that  Mulligan  was  in 
bed,  in  the  second  story  of  the  building,  to  his  disappoint- 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


164 

ment,  Lawler,  from  his  lameness,  was  quite  unable  to  see  his 
friend,  but  unwillingly  compelled  to  remain  in  the  parlor  on 
the  first  floor.  He  had  suffered  pain  enough,  he  thought, 
through  alighting  from  the  buggy,  without  climbing  and  de- 
scending a pair  of  stairs  immediately  thereafter.  He  sent 
along  his  compliments  by  McKenna,  and  made  himself 
easy  by  the  stove,  awaiting  that  person’s  return.  Mrs. 
Mulligan  and  another  lady  who  had  just  stepped  in  to  see 
the  family  went  up  with  the  detective.  They  found  the  sick 
man  seemingly  very  low,  in  the  last  stages  of  pulmonary 
consumption,  slowly  coughing  his  life  away.  He  was  wan  and 
attenuated,  with  features  pinched,  sharp,  and  anxiously  drawn 
up,  eyes  unnaturally  large,  dark  of  color  and  suspiciously 
bright,  and  the  glossy  black  hair  contrasting  strangely  with 
waxlike  forehead  and  cheek.  The  hands,  with  which  he  ner 
vously  picked  and  clutched  at  the  counterpane,  were  thin, 
the  fingers  talon-like,  and  nails  long,  white,  and  rounding  out- 
ward in  the  middle.  With  barely  sufficient  strength  to  raise , 
his  arms,  he  lay,  a pitiable  object,  that  once  had  been  a large 
and  powerful  man.  Just  able  to  recognize  McKenna,  Hugh, 
was  seen  to  smile  faintly,  quite  gratified  that  two  of  his  com- 
rades had  shown  their  regard  by  calling  to  see  him.  In  a 
feeble  voice  he  asked  his  wife  to  bring  some  beer  to  the 
chamber,  and  give  Mike  Lawler  the  best  the  house  afforded. 
Mrs,  Mulligan  obeyed,  quicklv  returning  with  two  bottles  of 
Cronk  beer,  one  of  which  McKenna  opened,  presenting  a 
glass  of  its  contents  to  the  lady  visitor. 

The  sick-room  was  small,  with  reasonably  high  walls, 
lighted  by  two  windows,  fronting  the  public  road  and  at  the 
side  of  the  invalid’s  bed.  Its  furniture  was  poor  and  scant. 
There  was  an  old-fashioned  chest  of  drawers,  not  as  high  as 
a bureau,  but  taller  than  a trunk,  made  of  pine,  painted  a 
dark  red,  on  the  lid  of  which  stood  some  medicine  bottles 
and  an  empty  tumbler  and  spoon.  Near  by  was  a bit  of 
cracker,  which  the  sick  man  had  nibbled  with  his  teeth  when 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


165 


besought  to  take  some  nourishment.  The  bedstead  had 
high  posts,  and  the  bed  and  coverings  were  barely  comfort- 
able, Near  the  foot  of  the  bed  stood  a high-backed,  splint- 
bottom  rocking-chair,  with  neat  tidy  over  the  top.  Two  or 
three, other  chairs  and  a small  table  completed  the  furniture 
of  the  apartment.  No  carpet  concealed  the  floor,  the 
boards  of  which  were  scrubbed  white  and  clean.  Plain 
bleached  cotton  formed  the  looped-up  window  curtains, 
and  along  the  wall  were  nails,  on  which  hung  a soldier’s  over- 
coat, a hat,  a heavy  teamster’s  whip,  and  then  several  articles 
of  female  costume.  At  the  head  of  the  couch  was  a cheap 
print  of  St.  Patrick,  without  a frame,  and  on  the  opposite 
wall  a' cross,  entwined  with  real  shamrock,  the  emblems 
worked  with  a needle  in  red  worsted  upon  some  gilt  paste- 
board. A door  led  into  the  hall,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 
At  one  side  of  the  center  of  the  room  was  a sheet-iron  heater, 
fed  through  a pipe  from  the  apartments  below,  which 
came  up  through  the  floor  by  a tin  thimble,  or  protector,  and 
kept  the  atmosphere  warm  and  equable.  A small  hat-stand 
supported  the  bottles  of  beer  and  a couple  of  common  flar- 
ing beer  tumblers, 

Mrs.  Mulligan,  a motherly,  kind-hearted  woman,  with  blue 
eyes  and  plentiful  iron-gray  hair,  a cap,  and  becomingly  clad 
in  black,  stood  at  the  side  and  partly  toward  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  knitting  work  in  hand,  a pitying  glance  resting  upon 
her  suffering  husband.  The  lady  caller,  her  bonnet  and 
cloak  unremoved,  sat  not  far  away,  while  McKenna  was  at 
that  moment  in  the  act  of  helping  himself  to  a tumbler  of 
beer,  which  he  had  not  yet  poured  from  the  bottle.  This 
was  the  condition  of  affairs,  when  the  detective  heard  a heavy 
and  hasty  step  upon  the  staircase,  the  door  of  the  chamber 
was  rudely  thrust  open,  and  big  Dick  Flynn,  with  pistol  pre- 
sented in  one  hand  and  a long  knife  .brandished  recklessly 
in  the  other,  strode  in  and  paused  before  the  entrance.  His 
aim  was  directed  upon  the  sick  man  in  the  bed.  Mulligan 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE. 


1 66 

uttered  a despairing  wail,  and,  nervously  throwing  up  the 
coverings,  drew  his  head  beneath  them.  Mrs.  Mulligan, 
almost  paralyzed  with  fright,  dropped  her  knitting,  raised  her 
hands  and  screamed  “ murder  ! ” at  the  top  of  her  voice, 
while  the  lady  visitor,  without  pausing  to  say  “good-by," 
flew  past  the  intruder  and  down  the  stairs  like  a frightened 
deer.  McKenna,  who  had  paused  in  the  work  of  decant- 
ing the  contents  of  the  bottle,  heard  Lawler  hobbling, 
with  crutch  and  stick,  over  the  floor  below,  and,  looking 
from  the  corner  of  his  eye,  soon  saw  the  brave  Bodymaster 
making  rather  rapid  time,  for  a lame  man,  toward  the  gate, 
where  his  horse  and  buggy  were  standing.  Then  the  agent 
had  no  doubt  he  was  left  to  cope,  single-handed,  with  the 
savage  brute  before  him.  He  took  in  this  idea  in  much  less 
time  than  it  has  consumed  to  record  the  fact,  and  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  only  calmness  and  the  exertion  of 
ingenuity  could  save  his  life.  Dick  did  not  shoot  the  sick 
man,  who  he  was  quite  sure  was  Mike  Lawler,  but  stood 
ready  to  fire.  McKenna  finished  pouring  out  his  beer,  took 
up  the  second  glass  and  the  bottle,  and  with  supreme  impu- 
dence advanced  a step  toward  Flynn,  saying,  not  even  for- 
getting his  assumption  of  the  brogue  that  he  had  used  while 
in  the  (.ountry  : 

“ Sure,  an’  is  it  yourself,  Misther  Flynn  ? An’  its  tired  in- 
dade  ye  are,  afther  your  long  walk  ! Tak’  a drap  of  the 
beer  at  Hugh’s  expense  ! " 

And  he  proffered  the  bottle  and  glass. 

Flynn  was,  in  turn,  thunderstruck  by  the  coolness  of  his 
enemy,  muttered  something  between  his  shut  teeth,  was 
undecided  what  to  do,  wavered,  and  at  last,  depositing 
knife  and  pistol  on  the  little  table,  took  the  tumbler  in  one 
hand,  the  beer  bottle  in  the  other,  and  proceeded  to  drink. 

No  sooner  had  McKenna  released  bottle  and  glass  than  his 
right  hand  quickly,  yet  cautiously,  sought  the  side-pocket  of 
his  coat,  where  rested  his  trusted  seven-shooter.  With  a sud- 


J U(>/,  }ny  sivatc  Kapati’e!  Not  l>y  thcso  /iy/its!" 


A THRILLING  ADVENTURE.  1 6/ 

den  twist  of  the  wrist,  holding  a firm  grasp  upon  the  pistol 
stock,  his  thumb  brought  the  hammer  of  the  lock  to  full- 
cock.  Still  he  did  not  display  the  repeater. 

“ By  heaven ! I’ve  got  Muff  Lawler  this  time ! ” said 
Flynn.  “Ye  can’t  chate  me!  Pretendin’  to  be  sick,  or 
lame,  won’t  save  ye  ! I’m  here  to  kill  ye  ! ” 

His  wild,  insane  look  rested  uneasily  on  the  half-con- 
cealed figure  in  the  bed,  as  he  said  this,  not  perceiving  the 
fact  that  McKenna  had  quietly  changed  position,  and  now 
stood  somewhat  nearer  to  him  than  before. 

“ Oh,  I’m  not  Muff  Lawler ! ” painfully  gasped  Mulligan, 
exposing  his  white,  almost  spectral  features.  The  voice  was 
stronger  than  usual.  He  had  summoned  all  his  vital  powers 
to  repel  that  which  he  might  well  believe  a hateful  vision. 
“ I’m  only  poor,  sick,  disabled  Hugh  Mulligan  ! ” 

Turning  his  eye  to  the  window,  Flynn  beheld  Lawler, 
driving  away  in  the  buggy,  the  horse’s  head  turned  toward 
town.  Then  he  fiercely  faced  McKenna,  and  exclaimed  : 
“You’ve  saved  Muff  Lawler,  but  you  are  his  ‘butty,’  and 
I’m  here  to  kill  one  of  the  two — so  it  seems  you  are  the 
one  ! ” 

“ I guess  not,  me  swate  raparee  I Not  by  these  lights  ! ” 
And  the  detective  drew  his  weapon,  bringing  it  close  to 
the  man’s  face,  until  the  dark  muzzle  rested,  deadly,  sullenly 
cold,  in  close  contact  with  the  ruffian’s  bare  cheek.  Flynn, 
drunk  and  infuriated  as  he  was,  could  not  resist  that  forbid- 
ding and  blood-chilling  argument.  It  was  plain  that  the 
lock  was  set,  the  man’s  finger  resting  on  the  trigger.  He  be- 
gan to  tremble  like  a poplar  leaf  in  the  wind,  his  color 
shifted  from  red  to  white,  the  features  relaxed,  the  corners 
of  the  mouth  fell  down,  and  his  whole  appearance  was  fear- 
fully changed. 


i68 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY, 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 

Flynn  obeyed.  He  could  do  nothing  less,  finding  him- 
self completely  in  the  power  of  the  enemy  and  that  menac- 
ing revolver.  It  was  far  from  his  intention  to  lose  his  life, 
when,  by  merely  complying  with  McKenna’s  simple  com- 
mand, he  could  insure  its  immediate  or  temporary  preserva- 
tion. 

At  this  late  moment  Mrs.  Mulligan  recovered  her  voice, 
and  throwing  herself  between  Flynn  and  her  husband,  cried 
out  : 

“ Oh,  don’t  hurt  my  Hugh  ! He’s  never  done  anybody  any 
harrum,  sheeling  avourneeti  ! Sure  its  dyin’  the  poor  boy  is, 
the  moment  ! An’  its  right  down  cruel  of  yez  to  come  dis- 
putin’ about,  disturbin’  us  an’  makin’  him  the  worse  ! Oh,  kill 
me,  if  you  want  to,  but  don’t  hurt  a hair  o’  him  ! ” 

“ Faix  an’  I don’t  see  that  Flynn  is  about  to  shoot  any- 
body jist  at  the  present  moment ! ” said  McKenna,  still 
keeping  the  weapon  nigh  his  adversary’s  head.  “ I am  in 
the  firm  belaif  that  the  boot’s  on  t’other  foot,  this  time  ! ” 

Meanwhile  the  detective  slowly  retreated,  still  facing  his 
opponent,  to  the  table  on  which  the  drunken  man’s 
weapons  rested,  and,  without  changing  aim  or  lowering 
the  revolver,  proceeded  to  deposit  the  knife  in  his  pocket. 
The  second  loaded  ]ristol  he  retaine-d  in  the  left  hand,  ready 
for  use  should  his  own  miss  fire  or  the  cartridges  be  ex- 
hausted. 

At  this  stage  of  proceedings,  Flynn,  whose  reason  seemed 
partly  to  have  resumed  sway,  through  fright,  thought  death 
was  sure  to  follow,  and  his  legs  would  no  longer  support  him. 


A PECULIAR  IVEDDIiYG  CEREMONY. 


169 


Falling  prone  upon  his  knees,  the  tall  hat  came  off,  and  he 
held  up  both  hands,  begging  abjectly,  like  the  arrant  coward 
he  was,  that  life  might  be  spared,  saying : 

“Don’t  kill  me,  McKenna  ! For  my  poor  childer’s  sake, 
don’t  shoot  ! ” 

“ I don’t  intend  to  shoot,  right  here,  in  the  presence  of 
Hugh  an’  the  good  lady — but  you  had  no  such  hesitation. 
Do  you  see  that  opening  the  carpenter  left  in  yonder  wall  ? 
What  I now  want  is,  that  you  get  up  from  the  floor  an’  be- 
take yourself  down  thim  stairs  as  fast  as  ye  can  go  ! ” 

“I’ll  do  anything  ye  say  !”  answered  Flynn. 

And  the  big,  lubberly  fellow,  completely  cowed  and  almost 
sobered,  moved  slowly  toward  the  door,  McKenna  following 
close  upon  him,  his  weapon  steadily  directed  full  upon 
Flynn’s  bushy  head.  Down  the  staircase  in  tliis  order  of 
procession  they  slowly  continued  their  march. 

“ Get  ye  in  here  ! ” said  the  detective,  and  he  opened  the 
door  of  a sort  of  vault,  where  Mrs.  Mulligan  stored  her  bottled 
ale  and  other  liquors.  “ Step  quickly,”  was  added,  as  the 
result  of  an  evident  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  prisoner. 
The  dark  muzzle  of  the  pistol  emphasized  the  language,  and 


made  it  impossible  for  him  to  disobey  ; so  in  he  went. 


“ It  is  well  you  got  in,”  said  McKenna,  “ fur  I had  brought 
ye  to  the  place  where  I intinded  fur  to  kill  ye  ! ” 

“ I’ll  niver  hesitate  agin  ! ” said  Flynn,>  and  he  looked 
about  the  dark  recess.  McKenna  shut  the  door  with  a bang, 
shot  to  its  place  the  bolt  of  the  ponderous  lock,  withdrew 
'^the  key,  and  placed  it  in  his  pocket.  Then  with  a heavy 
piece  of  timber,  wdiich  had  been  employed  as  a support  for 
whisky  barrels,  be  propped  the  massive  oaken  panels  in 
their  position,  resting  the  upper  end  of  the  brace  against  the 
boards  and  the  lower  portion  behind  a solid  brick-and-mortar 
projection,  forming  part  of  the  chimney.  Thus  was  Dick 

I Flynn  safely  caged.  To  make  sure  that  he  remained  where 
lie  had  confined  him,  the  (detective  closed  and  fastened  all 


8 


I/O  A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 

the  shutters  to  the  windows,  locked  and  barred  every  outer 
entrance  to  the  lower  part  of  the  house,  took  possession  of 
the  keys,  and  then,  only  pausing  a few  moments  to  inform 
Mrs.  Mulligan  that  she  was  perfectly  safe,  and  that  he  would 
send  an  officer  to  her  relief,  with  the  frantic  cries  and  oaths 
of  the  imprisoned  man  ringing  in  his  ears,  experiencing  a 
feeling  of  gratitude  that  he  had  escaped,  he  started  for 
Shenandoah,  following  the  track  left  by  the  carriage  which 
had  borne  away  his  wounded  companion. 

McKenna  had  not  gone  far  when  he  met  Lawler  return- 
ing to  Mulligan’s  accompanied  by  a deputy  sheriff. 

“ Hurrah  ! ” shouted  Lawler,  when  he  saw  the  young  man, 
apparently  unharmed.  “ Then  ye  are  not  kilt  enthirely  ? ” 

“An’  phat  did  ye  run  off  afther?”  queried  McKenna, 
appearing  greatly  offended.  “ I think  ye  might ’ev  stopped 
at  laste  to  carry  away  me  dead  body,  afther  the  matin’  wid 
Dick  Flynn,  the  murtherous  thafe  of  the  worruld  ! ” 

^ “ Didn’t  I ride  away,  wid  all  me  power,  to  get  me  revolver, 
which,  like  a looney  that  I am,  I had  left  snug  at  home? 
An’  wasn’t  I so  disabled,  from  me  wound,  that  I couldn’t  tak’ 
any  part  in  the  pother?  Didn’t  I think  there’d  be  nade  of 
an  officer,  sure — an’  isn’t  wan  here  ? Faith,  ye  kin  now  take 
the  boy  to  jail  in  a twinklin’  ! But  where  is  Dick  Flynn,  the 
insanity  that  he  is  ! ” 

“ Well,  a poor  excuse  suits  ye  as  well  as  any  ! ” answered 
the  operative.  “ But  I forgive  ye,  seein’  as  how  I wur  suc- 
cessful in  handlin’  the  man  ! You’ll  hnd  him,  all  swate  an’ 
cooled  down  like,  in  Mrs.  Mulligan’s  beer  closet,  an’  all  ye 
hev  to  do  is  to  put  a revolver  close  to  his  head,  an’  he’ll  walk  j 
quieter  nor  a lamb,  wherever  ye  may  wish.  I have  his  | 
knife  and  pistol — here  they  are — an’  the  kays  to  the  doors — 
take  thim  along,  too — you  kin  do  wid  the  fellow  as  ye  j 
wish  ! Right  here,  I wash  me  hands  of  the  business  en- 
thirely ! ” 

IlIcKenna  handed  the  weapons  and  keys  to  the  officer. 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY,  l/I 

and,  stubbornly  turning  on  his  heel,  rapidly  journeyed 
homeward. 

Flynn  was  removed  to  jail,  at  Shenandoah,  where  he  re- 
mained a few  days  and  was  eventually  released,  the  witness 
for  the  State  having  been  coaxed  by  Mrs.  Mulligan  not  to 
appear  against  him.  The  poor  woman  was  afraid  that,  if 
punished,  Dick  would  make  her  home  too  hot  for  her. 
Thenceforward,  however,  Flynn  bore  himself  quite  decently 
toward  both  of  his  former  enemies,  and  gave  McKenna  a 
wide  berth  if  he  chanced  to  find  himself  where  he  might  pos- 
sibly encounter  him. 

This  may  be  set  down  as  one  of  the  many  adventures  of 
a critical  and  dangerous  nature  which  the  detective  expe- 
rienced during  the  course  of  his  first  year’s  residence  in  the 
anthracite  region.  He  had  still  others,  but  they  will  receive 
attention  in  an  appropriate  place.  With  these  tragical 
rencounters  there  arose  also  occasional  experiences  which 
were  of  a more  pleasant  sort.  Among  the  latter  was  his 
participation  in  a Polish  marriage  ceremony,  transpiring  in 
the  vicinity  of  Shenandoah  only  a short  time  subsequent  to 
the  sudden  meeting  with  drunken  Dick  Flynn,  just  alluded  to. 

Pete  Monaghan,  Ed.  Fergus,  and  Tom  McNulty  accom- 
panied my  representative  on  the  trip.  In  view  of  this  fact, 
and  their  future  relations  with  our  work,  it  may  be  best  more 
particularly  to  introduce  them  to  the  reader’s  attention. 

Monaghan  seemed  about  four  years  past  his  majority, 
was  of  fair  complexion,  hair  of  the  color  denominated  sandy, 
full,  florid  face,  light  blue  eyes,  and  wore  no  beard  or  mus- 
tache. In  fact,  he  was  a middle-sized,  boyish-looking  man, 
a little  above  medium  height  and  weight.  He  was  at  that 
period  a miner,  but  subsequently  attended  college  about  a 
year,  and  finally  settled  down  in  Shenandoah  as  a staid  and 
sober  green-groceryman,  in  which  place  and  position  he  yet 
remained  at  last  advices.  He  is  nat  to  be  confounded  with 
Ned  Monaghan. 


172 


A PECULIAR  mLDDING  CEREMONY. 


Ferguson,  alias  Fergus,  was  also  a miner,  but  a person- 
age whose  figure  and  face  were  a contrast  to  those  just  de- 
scribed. Of  dark  complexion,  wearing  a black,  full  beard 
and  mustache,  of  which  he  was  so  proud  that  he  constantly 
stroked  and  petted  them  with  his  rough  hand  ; a foxy  little 
face,  red  nose,  that  turned  ever  upward  ; large,  broad,  and 
capacious  mouth,  which  was  seemingly  filled  with  long,  wide, 
shovel-shaped  teeth  ; staring,  hazel  eyes,  ready  to  wink  com- 
ically at  the  faintest  possible  chance  ; his  shoulders  tending 
to  form  part  and  portion  of  a human  interrogation  point,  he 
was  neither  large  nor  small,  heavy  nor  light,  but  about  a 
medium  in  both  ; a person  to  be  remarked  upon  the  street, 
and  as  full  of  genuine  wit  as  he  well  could  be.  While  Fergus 
was  wild  and  frolicsome,  Monaghan  was  quiet  and  good- 
natured. 

McNulty  was  a compact  fellow,  of  swarthy  complexion, 
black  hair,  dark  gray  eyes,  round  face,  pug  nose,  and  would 
steal  like  a born  thief.  Work  and  he  had  evidently  early 
fallen  out  and  never  become  reconciled.  A fearful  con- 
sumer of  drink,  he  was  never  trusted  by  the  Mollies,  and 
there  were  few  who  knew  him  that  would  leave  sixpence  in 
his  reach  if  they  cared  ever  to  see  it  again. 

These  were  some  of  the  every-day  companions  of  the 
operative. 

The  natives  of  Poland,  quite  numerous  in  the  vicinity  of 
Shenandoah,  were  mostly  members  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
affiliating  readily  with  the  miners  from  England,  Ireland,  Scot- 
land, and  Wales,  and,  when  of  the  same  religious  belief,  even 
with  those  of  Germany  and  Scandinavia.  Still  they  were 
located  in  particular  sections,  and  tenaciously  held  to  many  of 
the  fatherland  social  peculiarities.  Their  habits  and  customs 
were  mostly  novel  to  the  average  American  reader,  and  their 
nuptial  ceremony  notable  as  among  the  most  curious  of  those 
belonging  to  a queer  community.  In  the  first  place,  although 
it  was  generally  known  when  and  where  a wedding  was  to 


J 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


173 


transpire,  yet  no  persons  were  especially  invited  to  partici- 
pate, and  none  were  asked  to  stay  away.  All,  as  it  was 
generally  understood,  would  find  welcome  on  the  occasion. 
Pre[)arations  were  entered  into  for  great  sport,  and  plenty 
of  it,  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  act  of  uniting  “ two  hearts 
that  beat  as  one.”  There  was,  on  these  occasions,  almost 
total  absence  of  restraint,  but  perfect  decorum  being  the 
prevailing  rule,  and  disorder  the  exception.  The  Polish 
women  were  as  well-behaved,  in  every  respect,  as  those  of 
other  nationalities,  and,  in  a locality  where  two-thirds  of  the 
inhabitants  were  Poles,  cause  for  divorce,  and  illegitimacy 
were  seldom  brought  to  the  light. 

But  the  wedding. 

Monaghan,  Fergus,  McNulty,  and  McKenna  attended 
the  nuptials  of  Julius  Krozenski  with  a fair  maiden,  to 
whom  he  had  been  some  years  betrothed.  It  was  rather 
outside  the  borough  limits  and  in  the  edge  of  the  wood  that 
the  girl’s  parents  resided,  and  this  was  the  scene  of  the  wed- 
ding. There  were  many  people  already  gathered  when  they 
reached  the  place,  although  the  time  was  only  an  hour  past 
sunset.  The  view  presented  to  the  eye  of  the  detective 
reminded  him  of  pictures  he  had  seen  of  gypsy  encampments 
at  night. 

Two  forked  sticks  had  been  embedded  in  the  earth,  the  “ y ” 
parts  above  ground.  Across,  and  resting  in  the  crotches 
of  these,  was  placed  a heavy  hickory  sapling,  some  five 
inches  in  diameter  at  the  butt.  Suspended  by  iron  chains 
and  a hook  from  the  center  of  this  beam  was  a huge  caldron 
kettle,  made  of  iron,  and  under  the  vessel  a hot  fire  had 
been  kindled,  which,  beside  serving  its  culinary  purpose, 
threw  out  fitful  hashes  of  red  light  upon  the  motley  assem- 
blage, giving  a garish  contrast  on  one  side  of  each  object 
to  the  darkness  of  night  shadowing  the  other. 

As  a more  voluminous  sheet  of  fire  would  dart  out  from 
among  the  pine  knots  and  glowing  embers,  it  illuminated  a 


174 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


space  for  yards  around,  and  sent  the  pleasant  light  far  into 
the  budding  branches  of  the  highest  trees. 

From  the  great  iron  kettle  a savory  incense  arose.  After 
some  inquiry,  the  stranger  learned  that  it  came  from  an 
admixture  of  high-wines  and  common  molasses,  in  about 
the  proportion  of  one  gallon  of  the  latter  to  four  of  the 
spirit,  which,  when  once  well  incorporated  by  stirring  with  a 
wooden  ladle,  and  brought  to  the  boiling  point,  was  to  con- 
stitute the  wedding  refreshment,  in  lieu  of  the  breakfast, 
supper,  or  dinner.  The  number  of  guests  was  large  and  the 
liquor  boiled  made,  in  the  aggregate,  several  gallons. 

There  were  present  miners  of  all  nationalities  nearly,  with 
their  wives  and  sweethearts — all  outside  the  house  in  which 
the  bride  sat,  as  the  building  was  much  too  small  to  accom- 
modate one-tenth  part  of  the  concourse  assembled.  Had  this 
been  different,  the  kettle  would  have  swung  from  the  crane 
in  the  wide,  open  fireplace,  after  the  olden  fashion. 

McKenna  and  his  friends  were  well  received  by  the 
people.  This  was  especially  the  case  with  the  detective, 
who  had  dressed  himself  with  more  than  ordinary  care  for  the 
occasion,  exhibiting,  for  about  the  first  time  since  the  chicken 
match,  an  immaculate  linen  shirt-front,  collar,  black  necktie 
and  waistcoat,  and  having  entirely  eschewed  the  old  leather 
belt,  with  its  common  iron  buckle.  He  was,  therefore,  in 
his  freshly-trimmed  hair  and  whiskers,  a rather  gentlemanly 
appearing  young  fellow,  reputed  a fair  dancer,  and  as  having  | 
an  uncommonly  fine  voice  for  an  Irish  love  ditty.  He  was 
met  by  several  acquaintances,  who  were  at  some  pains  to  ; 
introduce  him  to  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen.  With  the  ' 
former  his  native  modesty  was  not  in  the  way  of  his  cultiva- 
ting, to  the  full  extent,  their  good  graces.  In  fact,  some  of 
the  men  thought  he  devoted  more  time  than  necessary 
to  the  handsome  women.  Be  that  as  it  may,  despite  the 
rough  reputation  he  had  won,  he  certainly  was  a prime 
favorite  with  the  Polish  maidens.  The  Irish  girls,  also. 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


175 


thought  he  was  about  right  ; one  especially — a queenly 
figure,  with  dark,  waving  chestnut  curls,  and  laughing,  hazel 
eyes,  whose  name,  he  heard,  was  Mary,  and  resided  in,  or 
very  nigh  to,  Tamaqua — was  the  particular  object  of  his 
regard,  and  Fergus  suggested,  more  than  once,  that  the 
western  chap  had  in  her  met  his  fate.  It  is  true  tha‘ 
McKenna  was  deeply  struck  with  the  lady’s  beauty,  vivacity 
and  amiability — seen  at  a distance.  He  was  now  intent  on 
business,  and  believed,  after  that  night,  would  never  see  her 
again . 

But  the  wedding. 

The  seething  blackstrap  was  pronounced  ready  for  use, 
and  a lady,  a long-handled  tin  dipper  in  hand,  stood  at  the 
kettle  dishing  out  its  smoking  contents  to  the  company.  It 
rapidly  disappeared,  and,  as  it  diminished  and  was  imbibed, 
the  fun  and  hilarity  proportionately  increased.  The  fluid 
was  greatly  relished  by  the  Poles  and  their  families. 

The  young  couple  having  been  united  by  the  priest,  after 
the  ritual  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  the  clergyman  par- 
took of  the  spirits  and  departed  for  his  home.  Then  the 
bride  was  seated  at  her  place  in  the  best  room — which  was 
the  kitchen — having  a small  table  near,  on  which  stood  a 
steaming  pitcher  of  the  blackstrap  and  a tin  pot.  In  the  open 
fire-place  blazed  pine  knots  and  light-wood,  giving  a genial 
brightness  to  the  place,  which  was  devoid  of  lamps  or  candles. 
A dresser,  with  its  array  of  polished  tinware,  reflected  back 
the  flame  and  made  each  corner  like  open  day.  By  the 
chimney  jamb,  on  a bit  of  log,  fashioned  into  a rude  stool, 
sat  the  aged  grandmother  of  the  bride,  gray,  wrinkled,  and 
trembling  in  limb,  but  rigged  out  in  a white  ruffled  cap, 
and  smoking  a brand-new  clay  pipe.  Chairs  there  were 
none,  excepting  that  devoted  to  the  queen  of  the  occasion 
— fair,  comely  Mrs.  Krozenski,  with  her  hair  done  up  in  a 
knot  behind  her  head,  combed  flat  at  the  sides  of  the  face, 
and  the  whole  surniounted  by  a high  tortoise-shell  comb — 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


who  bore  her  honors  gracefully,  and  was  supplied  with  a 
dress  pocket,  capacious  enough  to  contain  a small  fortune 
in  silver. 

This  was  the  style  of  her  reception  : Her  male  friends, 
one  after  another,  came  in,  saluted  her  kindly,  wishing  her 
the  usual  good  luck,  calling  her  by  her  new  name,  and  each 
one  helped  himself  to  some  of  the  liquor,  handing  the  bride  a 
present — always  in  the  shape  of  money,  and  ranging  from 
one  dollar  to  ten  dollars,  according  to  the  ability  or  generos- 
ity of  the  donor — then  kissed  the  lady  three  times.  She, 
nowise  disconcerted,  placed  the  cash  in  her  purse,  and  was 
ready  for  the  next  person.  The  room  was  well  filled  with 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  groom,  meanwhile,  busying  himself 
with  out-door  affairs.  McKenna  watched  this  part  of  the  pro- 
ceedings for  a while  with  interest,  rather  liked  it,  and  then 
walked  up,  paid  his  money,  enjoyed  his  small  share  of  the 
lady’s  lips,  and  stepped  back  a little  to  give  others  a chance. 
Following  him  happened  to  be  the  young  woman  fromTama- 
qua.  She  tripped  gaily  to  the  bride,  took  her  dainty  sip 
of  the  liquor,  tendered  a bank-bill,  and  then,  her  roguish  Irish 
eye  resting  upon  the  detective,  she  suddenly  swooped  down 
upon  him,  rested  one  little  hand  for  a second  lightly  as  a 
snow-flake  on  his  shoulder,  and,  before  the  defenseless  man 
could  prevent,  kissed  him  once,  twice,  thrice,  on  the  cheek, 
then  as  swift  as  the  wind  almost,  turned,  ran  away,  and  dis- 
appeared. 

The  laugh  which  was  raised  at  the  detective’s  discomfiture 
was  both  long  and  loud,  and  he  was  forced,  after  he  had 
recovered  from  the  astonishment,  to  take  part  in  it. 

It  seems  that  the  young  lady  had  done  nothing  at  all 
indecorous  or  uncommon.  The  rule,  as  McKenna  subse- 
quently saw  exemplified,  permitted  any  of  the  ladies  who 
saluted  and  feed  the  bride  to  kiss  the  woman  just  married, 
or  if  she  so  chose,  any  of  the  gentlemen  present.  Hence 
the  agent  had  unwittingly  placed  himself  in  a position  to 


And,  befoye  the  defenseless  man  could  p>  event,  she  kissed  him  once,  tioiee,  thrice,  on  the  check. 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


177 


become  the  subject  of  ATiss  Mary’s  little  trick.  He  was  not 
at  all  sorry  for  it,  and  the  sensation  of  pleasure,  caused  by  the 
kiss,  visited  his  cheek  for  weeks  thereafter. 

The  money  thus  donated  to  the  bride — and  this  part  of  the 
ceremony  might  be  continued  for  some  days — was  employed 
in  furnishing  the  house  of  the  wedded  pair.  It  closed  at 
midnight,  after  which  the  lady  and  her  husband  could  join 
their  friends  and  indulge  in  a polka  or  waltz. 

The  dancing  of  the  Poles  consisted  of  redowas,  waltzes, 
polkas,  mazourkas,  and  schottisches,  some  of  which  McKenna 
was  taught;  but,  after  all  these,  he  liked  best  the  lively  jig 
and  the  rattling  reel.  Following  some  of  this  amusement,  he 
was  called  upon  to  sing  a song  and  dance  a favorite  fling, 
both  of  which  he  did  with  success.  The  song  he  gave 
eliciting  most  commendation  was  as  follows,  and  called  : 

THE  WEDDING  OF  BALLYPOREEN. 

On  a fine  summer  morning  at  twelve  in  the  day, 

The  birds  they  did  sing  and  the  asses  did  bray, 

When  Patrick,  the  bridegroom,  with  Onagh,  the  bride. 

With  their  bibs  and  their  tuckers,  set  out  side  by  side. 

The  pipers  played  first  in  the  rear,  sir  ; 

Maids  blushed,  and  the  bridegroom  did  stare,  sir — 

O Lord,  how  the  spalpeens  did  swear,  sir, 

At  the  wedding  of  Ballyporeen, 

•They  were  soon  tacked  togither,  and  home  did  return, 

To  make  merry  the  day  at  the  sign  of  the  Churn. 

When  they  sat  down  together,  a frolicsome  troop. 

The  old  Shannon’s  bank  never  held  such  a group. 

There  were  turf-cutters,  thatchers,  and  tailors, 

Fiddlers,  and  pipers,  and  nailers, 

At  the  wedding  of  Ballyporeen. 

There  was  Bryan  McDermott,  O’Shaughnessy’s  brat. 

There  was  Terence  O’Driscoll  and  platter-faced  Pat; 

There  was  Norah  McCormick,  likewise  Bryan  O’Linn, 

An’  the  fat.  red-haired  cookmaid  that  lived  in  the  inn  : 


A PECULIAR  WEDDING  CEREMONY. 


There  was  Shelah,  an’  Larry  the  genius, 

Pat’s  uncle,  old  Darby  McGinniss, 
lilack  Thady  an’  crooked  McDennis, 

At  the  wedding  of  Ballyporeen. 

The  groom  he  got  up  an’  made  an  oration  ; 

He  pleased  them  all  with  his  kind  botheration  ; 

“ Since  you  all  have  met  here  ” — then  he  swore  and  he  cursed — 
“You  can  eat  till  you  swell,  boys,  an’  drink  till  ye  burst  ; 

The  first  christening  I hev,  if  I thrive,  sirs, 

I hope  ye  all  hither  will  drive,  sirs. 

You’ll  be  all  welcome,  dead  or  alive,  sirs, 

To  the  christening  of  Ballyporeen.” 

The  bride  she  got  up  and  she  made  a low  bow, 

She  twittered — she  felt  so — she  couldn’t  tell  how — 

She  blushed,  and  she  stammered,  and  a few  words  let  fall ; 

But  she  spoke  it  so  low  that  she  bothered  them  all. 

Then  the  mother  cried  out  : “ Are  you  dead,  child  ? 

For  shame  ! Now  hold  up  your  head,  child  ; 

Tho’  sixty,  I wish  I were  wed,  child, 

I would  rattle  all  Ballyporeen.” 

Well,  they  sat  down  to  ate — Father  Murphy  said  grace; 
Smokin’  hot  were  the  dishes,  an’  eager  each  face  ; 

Knives  and  forks  they  did  rattle,  spoons  and  platters  did  play  ; 
They  elbowed  an’  jostled  an’  walloped  away. 

Rumps,  shins  and  fat  sirloins  did  quake,  sir  ; 

Whole  mountains  of  beef  down  were  mown,  sir  ; 

We  demolished  all,  to  the  bare  bone,  sir. 

At  the  wedding  of  Ballyporeen. 

The  whisky  went  around  an’  the  songsters  did  roar  ; 

Tim  sang,  “ Paddy  O’Kelly” — Nell  sung,  “ Moll  Asthore  ; ” 
When  a motion  went  around  that  their  songs  they  forsake 
And  each  man  took  his  sweetheart,  their  trotters  to  shake. 

With  the  pipers  in  couples  advancin’ — 

Pumps,  brogans,  an’  bare  feet  fell  a prancin’, 

Such  pipin’,  an’  figurin’,  an’  dancin’. 

Was  ne’er  seen  at  Ballyporeen. 


A ROPV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


179 


Here’s  to  Patrick,  the  bridegroom,  and  Onagh,  the  bride  ; 

That  the  Harp  of  Old  Erin  be  hung  by  their  side  ; 

An’  to  all  the  people,  whether  old,  gray,  or  green, 

Drunk  or  sober,  that  jigged  it  at  Ballyporeen, 

Until  Dan  Cupid  does  lend  you  his  wherry 
To  trip  o’er  the  conjugal  ferry, 

I hope  you  all  may  be  as  merry 
As  we  were  at  Ballyporeen. 

fust  as  McKenna  had  concluded  this  effort,  a great 
pr  reaming  and  rushing  of  the  ladies  was  heard  in  another 
pi*rt  of  the  house,  accompanied  by  heavier  voices  of  men, 
mingling  curiously  with  the  music  of  the  fiddle  and  the 
barking  of  the  dogs.  The  three  friends,  with  almost  every 
person  in  the  vicinity,  quickly  started  for  the  field  of  dis- 
order, which  seemed  not  far  from  the  residence. 


. CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A ROW,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 

The  true  cause  of  the  disturbance  was  not  at  once  dis- 
closed, but  its  progress  and  bearings  were  easily  determined 
by  the  eye  and  ear  of  the  spectator.  Such  a reign  of  con- 
fusion and  roar  of  voices ; such  a Babel  of  tongues,  it  had 
never  been  the  fortune  of  the  operative  to  see  or  hear.  In 
the  center  of  a considerable  group  of  persons  stood  the 
young  husband,  Julius  Krozenski,  brandishing  a long  stiletto 
and  loudly  swearing  that  he  would  take  somebody’s  life. 
Meanwhile  a friend,  less  under  excitement  than  the  bride- 
groom, firmly  held  the  angry  man  back  by  the  collar.  Facing 
the  Pole,  somewhat  in  the  shadow  of  a large  tree,  stood  an 


l8o  A ROW,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


athletic  Irish  miner  and  his  equally  muscular  wife,  both 
much  wrought  up,  but  neither  exhibiting  or  employing  any 
more  deadly  weapon  of  offense  or  defense  than  their  unusually 
acrimonious  tongues,  which  they  exercised  with  all  their 
strength.  Soon  Mrs.  Krozenski  made  her  appearance,  and, 
\valking  straight  to  the  side  of  her  newly-made  liege  lord — 
but  by  no  means,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  her  master — she 
scientifically  seized  him  by  the  left  ear,  told  him  to  “ ])ut 
away  his  knife,”  and  then,  with  an  affectionate  and  effective 
twist  of  the  imprisoned  auricular  appendage,  hauled  the  irate 
man  away.  The  burst  of  laughter  which  followed  this  evi- 
dence of  power  on  the  part  of  a wife  was  highly  exaspera- 
ting to  Julius,  and  he  slipped  his  tether,  again  drew  his  knife, 
and  rushed  back  toward  his  opponent.  Once  more  Mrs. 
Krozenski  caught  him  by  the  ear,  once  more  he  had  to  re- 
place the  weapon  in  his  belt,  and  once  more  the  victorious 
lady  led  him  in  the  direction  of  the  house.  This  escaping 
and  catching  process  was  repeated  several  times,  and  on 
each  occasion,  the  peacemaker  succeeded  in  capturing  and 
carrying  away  her  husband.  At  last  he  was  safely  returned 
to  the  kitchen  and  seated  on  a log  of  wood  at  the  wife’s 
side,  where,  for  some  moments,  he  remained  as  mild  and 
quiet  as  possible. 

Now  the  reception  ceremonies  were  continued,  and  noth- 
ing more  occurred  to  disturb  the  usual  routine  of  proceedings 
until  O’Neill  and  his  wife  ventured  to  enter  the  apartment. 
This  was  too  much,  and  Krozenski  burst  out  afresh,  worked 
himself  into  a new  frenzy,  and  quickly  rising,  again  reached 
for  and  produced  his  long-bladed  knife,  which,  unfortunately, 
his  spouse  had  permitted  to  remain  in  his  possession. 

The  detective  soon  learned  the  cause  of  the  difficulty. 

It  seems  that  O’Neill,  who  w^as  a miner,  and  an  intimate 
associate  of  the  bridegroom,  had  formerly  entertained  the 
hope  that  Julius  would  marry  a maiden  sister  of  his  own — 
was,  in  fact,  somewhat  angered  that  he  did  not — and,  in  Kro- 


A ROIV^  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  l8l 

zenski’s  presence,  made  the  remark,  while  dancing,  that  Mrs. 
Krozenski  was  not  as  graceful  in  the  polka  as  that  gifted 
young  lady.  This  was  a very  mild  criticism  for  O’Neill  to 
make,  but  it  was  heard  by  Krozenski,  who  had  imbibed  too 
mucli  of  the  blackstraj>  to  have  any  great  amount  of  sense 
remaining  in  his  head,  and  he  resented  it  by  calling  the  Irish- 
man a liar  and  following  the  hard  word  with  a stinging  blow 
in  the  face.  As  was  perfectly  natural,  O’Neill  'came  in  to 
take  a hand,  backed  by  some  of  his  immediate  neighbors. 
In  the  melee  the  bridegroom  had  drawn  his  knife  and  been 
joined  by  some  of  his  countrymen.  This  part  of  the  fracas 
was  ended  by  the  masterly  manner  of  Mrs.  Krozenski,  whose 
principal  idea  appeared  to  be  to  have  her  reception  con- 
tinued and  prevent  her  husband  from  thus  early  leaving 
her  a widow. 

It  was  all  very  well  until  O’Neill,  having  armed  himself 
with  a revolver,  entered  the  kitchen,  which  was  crowded 
with  men  and  women.  This  was  more  than  the  husband  of 
Mrs.  Krozenski  could  po'ssibly  endure,  and  as  before  stated, 
he  rushed  once  more  to  the  deadly  fray.  He  could  not  bear 
to  have  O’Neill  there  to  gloat  over  his  abject  submission  to 
Mrs.  Krozenski.  O’Neill,  nothing  loth  for  a further  continu- 
ance of  the  battle,  promptly  fired  upon  the  bridegroom, 
narrowly  missing  a lady  standing  near,  and  not  hitting  the 
target  by  a foot.  This  was  enough  to  cause  all  the  Polish, 
German,  Welsh,  and  English  miners  in  the  room  to  side 
with  Krozenski,  while  those  from, Ireland  were  not  back- 
ward in  joining  the  O’Neill  and  his  plucky  little  helpmate. 
McKenna’s  friends,  promptly  deserting  him,  or  expecting 
that  he  would  follow,  entered  the  field.  The  detective,  being 
duly  sober,’  saw  at  a glance  that  the  Irish  element  was  in  the 
minority,  and,  despite  abundant  courage  and  considerable 
experience  in  such  matters,  would  inevitably  meet  defeat, 
and  he  assumed  the  7'dle,  for  the  first  time  that  evening,  of 
conservator  of  the  peace.  There  was  imminent  danger,  in 


i82 


A ROJV^  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


view  of  the  proclivity  of  the  Poles  for  using  sharp  knives 
in  such  troubles,  that  some  of  his  companions  might  be  dan- 
gerously injured,  if  not  killed. 

Beside,  the  Mollie  Maguires,  as  a body,  were  not  inter- 
ested in  the  affair. 

Krozenski  had  gone  in  with  the  full  intention  of  killing 
O’Neill;  and  O’Neill  was  equally  intent  upon  performing 
the  same  kindly  office  for  the  Polander.  Each  man  was 
backed  by  his  corps  of  partisans.  The  tumult  that  developed 
defies  powers  of  ];en  and  pencil  to  depict,  and,  in  point  of 
vocal  and  physical  performances,  exceeded  all  that  the  agent 
had  ever  heard  or  read  of  in  the  same  line  at  famous  Kil- 
kenny, or  equally  famous  Billingsgate.  Bricks  and  stones 
were  the  principal  missiles  employed;  pistols  and  knives 
played  their  part  ; heads  were  broken,  and  faces  and  noses 
contused  ; crabsticks  crossed  ; eyes  draped  in  beautiful  black 
and  blue,  teeth  lost,  shins  bruised,  chops  swollen,  and  shilla- 
lahs  fell  with  telling  effect.  The  shouts  and  cries  that  rent  the 
night  air  were  guttural  Teutonic,  Gallic,  Celtic,  Anglo-Saxon, 
"Welsh,  Polish,  and  sometimes  a mixture  of  all,  perfectly 
unintelligible  to  any  of  the  nationalities  participating.  Dust 
arose  in  clouds,  and  was  almost  suffocating  in  density.  The 
whole  affair  much  resembled  the  common  idea  of  a minia- 
ture bedlam,  and  was  in  truth  a small  pandemonium  let 
loose — chaos  come  again. 

When  the  turbulence  was  at  its  highest  pitch,  while  it 
was  difficult  to  think  of,  and  utterly  impossible  to  hear  any- 
thing, excepting  the  medley  of  noises  immediately  surround- 
ing him,  McKenna’s  attention  was  drawn  to  the  part  taken 
in  the  fight  by  the  aged  grandam  of  Mrs.  Krozenski,  who 
seemed  greatly  to  enjoy  the  rumpus  going  on  around  her. 
Jumping  hither  and  thither,  like  a veritable  witch  without 
her  broomstick,  the  little,  frisky  old  lady,  her  broad  lace 
ruffles  and  straggling  gray  hair  flying  about  her  withered 
face,  with  shrill  tone  and  violent  gesture  urged  on  her  coun- 


noise  ! JoUy  noise  ! ! Jolly  noise  1 1 1’^ 


A ROW,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  1 8$ 

trymen  to  the  contest,  and  added  at  least  her  share  to  the 
general  disorder.  At  last,  when  the  police  had  arrived,  and 
been  driven  away  with  clubs,  when  the  combat  had  been 
resumed,  and  shouts  and  shots  and  rattling  of  many  sticks 
again  filled  the  air,  the  grandmother  of  the  bride  climbed 
upon  the  back  of  a common  chair,  which  had  been  brought 
in  by  her  granddaughter,  and  standing  as  erect  as  possible, 
she  loudly  clapped  her  bony  hands  and  screamed  in  her 
cracked  treble  voice  : 

“ Oh,  jolly  noise  ! jo/ly  noise  ! ! jolly  noise  ! ! ! ” 

This  genuine  burst  of  enthusiasm  roused  the  energies  of 
the  detective,  thus  far  held  firmly  in  reserve,  and  he  drew  his 
revolver  and  fired  three  shots,  in  rapid  succession,  into  the 
floor,  directly  under  the  crone’s  perch,  shouting  in  a double- 
bass  voice,  as  loudly  as  he  could,  after  each  explosion  : 

“ Peace  ! ” Peace  I “ Peace  ! ! ! ” 

The  aged  dame  beheld  the  flame  and  smoke  issuing  from 
the  revolver,  and  heard  the  reports  ; then,  thinking  that  she 
was  certainly  hit,  if  not  killed,  she  toppled  over  backward  to 
the  floor  and  straightened  out  in  a dead  faint.  McKenna  at 
once  dragged  her  insensible  form  out  of  harm’s  way,  and 
then  joined  those  who  were  trying  their  utmost  to  quell  the 
disturbance. 

The  pistol  shots,  and  the  loud  voices  of  McKenna  and 
Mrs.  Krozenski — the  latter  having  quit  the  fray  to  attend  to 
her  relative — soon  caused  the  belligerents  to  hesitate.  In  a 
few  moments  their  fury  evaporated,  and  comparative  quiet 
was  restored.  Shortly  thereafter  those  who  were  able  limped 
away  to  their  homes. 

“ Faith,  an’  I’ve  had  enough  an’  to -spare  of  all  such  wed- 
din’s  I ” said  Fergus,  examining  with  care  an  extra  curve 
that  he  wore  in  his  turned-up  nose,  and  wiping  the  gore  from 
his  face  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  “ When  you  catch  me 
goin’  to  a Polish  war  again,  I give  ye  good  lave  to  put  me  in 
me  coffin  first  I ” 


1 84  A ROW,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


Monaghan  had  two  eyes  in  preparation  for  mourning, 
which  he  was  sure  they  would  assume  by  another  day. 

McNulty  was  the  only  lucky  one,  having  escaped  personal 
injury — and  found  a silver  watch,  as  he  explained,  “rolling 
along  on  the  floor,  widout  any  kaper  or  owner  bein’  around  ! ” 
fie  intended  merely  to  retain  the  timepiece  until  the  loser 
should  call  for  it.  But  McKenna  never  heard  that  anybody 
ever  saw  the  value  of  that  watch,  through  having  retrieved  it 
from  the  thief. 

The  Polish  husband  and  wife,  with  O’Neill  and  his  spouse, 
and  a number  of  the  originators  of  the  riot,  were  taken  to 
jail  by  the  officers,  who  returned  with  increased  numbers  for 
the  purpose. 

These  scenes  read  like  romance,  but  they  are  simply  the 
truth. 

Nothing  here  related  is  intended  to  reflect  upon  the  Poles, 
as  a portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  coal  regions  of  Penn- 
sylvania. They  are,  as  miners,  industrious  and  frugal,  and, 
though  slow  workers,  very  reliable  and  trustworthy.  The 
men  are  large,  robust,  muscular,  and  capable  of  great  en- 
durance. The  women  are  also  far  from  sylph-like,  but  many 
of  them  beautiful  in  form,  face,  and  figure  ; with  dusky  olive 
complexions,  dark  eyes  and  hair.  They  are  excellent  wives 
and  mothers. 

I^et  us  now  return  to  the  Mollie  Maguires. 

Tlie  next  meeting  of  the  midnight  clan  was  held  on  Sun- 
day, the  tenth  of  May,  and  his  own  room  being  too  small, 
the  Bodymaster  notified  the  members  to  convene  on  the 
mountain-side  near  the  house.  -All  were  present  excepting 
Fergus,  who  was  not  fairly  recovered  from  the  blows  received 
at  the  Polish  wedding.  Several  of  his  teeth  had  disappeared,, 
his  nose  was  badly  bruised,  and  his  beauty — of  which  he 
had  little  to  part  with — entirely  destroyed.  He  thought  it 
advisable  to  remain  within  for  a few  days,  having,  as  he  re- 
marked, a great  respect  for  the  children  of  his  acquaintances, 


A ROW^  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  1 85 

and  not  wishing  to  be  the  means  of  frightening  any  of  them 
to  death  by  hiS  untimely  appearance  in  their  midst. 

Bushy  Deenan,  from  Pottsville,  being  in  Shenandoah  on  a 
visit,  was  present  at  this  meeting  in  the  bush.  About  all 
done  was  the  giving  out  of  the  goods,”  received  from 
Barney  Dolan  by  Lawler.  McKenna  was  careful  to  commit 
all  to  memory.  They  were  as  follows  : 

The  password  : 

“ That  the  troubles  of  the  country  may  soon  be  at  an  end  1 ” 

The  answer : 

“And  likewise  the  men  who  will  not  her  defend.” 

The  quarreling  toast  was  : 

“You  should  not  dispute  with  a friend.” 

The  answer  was  : 

“ Not  if  I am  not  provoked  ! ” 

The  night  password  was  : 

Question  : “ Long  nights  are  unpleasant  ! ” 

Anszuer  : “ I hope  they  will  be  at  an  end  ! ” 

The  sign  of  recognition  was  the  front  or  first  finger  and 
thumb  of  the  right  hand  touching  the  necktie,  or  top  button 
of  the  shirt. 

The  answer  was  given  by  rubbing  the  right  hand  across 
the  forehead,  just  touching  the  hair. 

About  this  time  the  detective  had  his  first  portion  of  the 
process  of  inuring  himself  to  the  mountain  region.  It  came 
in  the  form  of  fever  and  ague,  and,  during  a number  of  days 
subsequent  to  the  meeting  of  his  division,  he  suffered  in- 
tensely, at  times,  from  chills,  with  the  succeeding  torrid  sensa- 
tions, which  confined  him  to  his  room  and  his  bed  at  Mrs. 
Cooney’s.  Those  who  have  enjoyed  the  rigors  of  this  un- 
pleasant complaint  need  no  description  of  the  detective’s 
symptoms — that,  in  this  instance,  “ ignorance  is  bliss,”  let 
those  who  have  not  shaken  be  content  to  believe. 


1 86  A ROPV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


As  a matter  of  necessity,  the  officer  soon  settled  the  slight 
difficulty  in  which  he  and  Muff  Lawler  were  involved.  It 
was  foolish,  as  well  as  unnecessary,  to  keep  up  a quarrel 
with  a man  so  bound  to  him  and  in  whose  movements  he  was 
so  much  interested.  Should  he  separate  from  Lawler,  at 
this  juncture,  the  division  would  look  upon  him  with  cold- 
nOfSS,  if  not  suspicion,  and  it  was  his  idea  to  remain  on  the 
most  intimate  terms  with  his  friends,  the  Mollies.  Lawler 
made  a feint  of  going  over  to  Colorado  Colliery,  to  fight  out 
the  trouble  with  Dick  Flynn,  and  borrowed  AlcKenna’s  re- 
volver for  dueling  purposes,  having  little  confidence  in  his 
own  weapon,  after  injuring  himself  with  it,  but  the  cowardly 
Flynn  would  not  come  to  time,  ending  the  interview  with 
I^awler — as  related  by  that  veracious  individual  in  person — 
by  falling  upon  his  knees  and  asking  the  Bodymaster’s 
pardon.  Thus  ended  the  affair,  without  having  further 
recourse  to  weapons,  or  the  law. 

It  was  now  the  duty  of  the  detective  to  collect  statistics 
connected  with  the  order  of  which  he  had  been  made  a 
member.  That  he  might  accomplish  this  object,  he  must 
travel  from  place  to  place.  Therefore,  saying  his  health 
demanded  rest  from  work  in  the  mines — even  should  labor 
present,  and  of  this  there  were  serious  doubts — he  prevailed 
upon  Lawler  to  grant  him  a traveling  card,  directed  to  the 
officers  of  all  divisions  in  the  United  States,  through  which — 
with  the  “ goods  ” — admission  could  be  secured  in  any  city, 
town,  or  village.  This  card  had  to  be  countersigned  by 
Barney  Dolan,  County  Delegate,  before  it  w'as  valid.  The 
name  was  easily  gained,  through  a short  trip  to  Big  Mine 
Run. 

Night  and  day  during  the  spring,  fall,  and  winter,  McKenna 
had  been  exposed  to  all  sorts  of  weather  and  late  hours,  and 
it  told  upon  his  constitution,  which  must  have  been  of  iron 
to  have  held  out  so  long,  and  he  grew  thin,  cadaverous,  and 
his  strength  perceptibly  and  rapidly  failed.  The  symptoms  i 


A ROIV^  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  1 8/ 

were  aggravated  by  a dry  cough,  which  drove  off  refreshing 
sleep. 

Although  it  was  not  his  intention  to  stay  long  away  from 
Shenandoah — which  place,  from  the  material  in  and  surround- 
ing it,  he  believed  to  be  the  grand  center  of  the  field  of 
operations  of  the  Mollie  Maguires — and  so  informed  all  his 
friends — the  parting  between  McKenna  and  Me  Andrew  was 
a scene  of  mutual  regrets.  ‘All  disliked  to  have  him  leave. 
This  was  especially  the  case  with  Cooney,  Lawler,  Monaglian, 
Fergus,  and  little  McNulty.  But,  after  many  good  wishes 
from  the  men  and  women,  and  promises  on  his  part  that  he 
would  return  as  soon  as  fully  recovered,  the  detective  occu- 
pied a car  on  the  Lehigh  Valley  Road,  the  evening  of  the 
fifteenth  of  May,  1874,  and  reaching  Wilkesbarre,  Luzerne 
County,  the  same  day,  took  up  quarters  at  the  Railroad 
Hotel,  of  which  Daniel  Shovlin  was  then  proprietor. 

Some  bitter  experiences  were  in  store  for  McKenna. 
There  must  be  the  bitter  with  the  sweet. 

Bearing  letters  from  Lawler  and  others  to  William  Kirk, 
County  Delegate  of  Luzerne,  he  encountered  no  difficulty 
in  forming  the  acquaintance  of  the  chief  Mollies  of  the 
vicinity.  He  found  that  there  were  at  that  time  only  a little 
less  than  thirty  divisions,  or  bodies,  in  the  county,  all  of 
which  were  in  a prosperous  condition,  as  many  as  thirty  or 
forty  persons  being  added  to  the  lodge  in  Wilkesbarre  alone 
during  a single  night. 

County  Delegate  Kirk  was  a gentlemanly  person,  kept 
a store,  and  was  kind  enough  to  say  that  Schuylkill  County, 
from  which  his  visitor  came,  “ was,  from  its  course,  a dis- 
grace to  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians,  and  should  be  cut 
off,  root  and  branch,  until  there  could  be  a complete  remedy 
for  the  difficulty  in  reorganization.” 

He  received  McKenna  cordially,  however,  and  said  he 
was  not  to  blame  for  the  condition  of  the  order  outside  of 
Shenandoah,  and  complimented  him  for  the  manner  in  which 


i88 


A ROIV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


the  business  and  finances  of  that  division,  as  far  as  he  had 
heard,  were  being  managed.  He  also  took  especial  trouble 
to  introduce  the  operative  to  the  chief  men  of  the  society  in 
Luzerne.  It  was  learned  that  there  were  about  four  thou- 
sand Mollies  in  the  county. 

After  remaining  in  Wilkesbarre  a few  days,  McKenna 
visited  the  division  at  Pittston,  and  saw  and  talked  with  the 
Podymaster,  whose  name  was  Melvin.  He  then  visited 
Kingston,  Plymouth,  and  the  adjacent  towns,  familiarizing 
himself  with  the  faces  and  names  of  the  officers  and  mem- 
bers, quietly  adding  to  his  list,  acquiring  a better  knowledge 
of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  people,  and  the 
modes  of  procedure  within  and  outside  the  division  room. 
Among  others,  he  encountered  Mike  Hester,  own  cousin 
of  Pat  Hester,  of  Shamokin,  who  had  not  the  violent  reputa- 
tion of  his  kinsman,  but  appeared  to  be  a decent  young  man. 
The  detective  had  not  been  long  absent  when  he  was  the 
recipient  of  a letter  from  Muff  Lawler,  inquiring  after  his 
health,  and  particularly  cautioning  him  not  to  use  the  new 
‘‘goods”  in  Luzerne,  as  the  members  of  the  society  in  that 
county  had  not  yet  been  instructed  in  them.  This  the  oper- 
ative had  already  discovered,  but,  as  his  memory  was  good 
and  he  had  remembered  those  of  the  previous  quarter,  he 
encountered  no  difficulty  in  that  respect.  He  also  met  Ned 
Lawler,  the  degenerate  nephew  of  his  uncle,  and  found  that 
he  had  gained  no  wisdom  by  the  taking  on  of  years,  but  was 
the  same  rollicking,  reckless  fellow  he  had  been  while  in 
Shenandoah.  Kirk,  when  McKenna  next  visited  his  place, 
showed  him  a letter  from  Mike  Lawler,  pompously  worded, 
but  inquiring  kindly  after  the  health  of  his  protege,  in  whom 
he  said  he  was  more  than  usually  interested. 

The  matter  then  most  canvassed  by  the  Mollies  was  a 
conference,  held  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  the  month  at 
Scranton,  between  Bishop  O’Hara  and  five  clergymen  on 
one  side,  and  a delegation  of  twenty-five  Bodymasters  from  all 


A 7^0 IV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  1 89 

parts  of  the  country,  on  the  other,  to  discuss  certain  changes 
in  the  constitution  and  by-laws,  as  well  as  in  the  secret  work 
of  the  order.  Mr.  County  Delegate  Kirk,  and  Peter  Duffy, 
(yf  Hazelton,  represented  Luzerne  County.  The  proceedings 
of  the  convention  were  harmonious,  but  no  conclusion  was 
arrived  at,  excepting  in  hearing  the  Bishop’s  ultimatum. 
The  clergy  insisted  that  there  must  be  a thorough  revision 
of  the  rules  regulating  divisions  ; that  they  should  cease 
I holding  meetings  in  bar-rooms,  and  consent  to  have  a priest 
for  spiritual  adviser,  before  the  Church  could  recognize  or 
affiliate  with  them.  The  sentence,  ‘‘  If  I hear  a brother  illy 
spoken  of  I will  inform  him  of  it,”  was  also  to  be  expunged 
; from  the  obligation.  They  did  not  seem  to  interfere  with 
j the  secrec}%  and  the  signs  and  pass-words,  and  little  was 
j said,  about  the  murderous  acts  which  had  been  done  by 
I the  Mollies.  It  was,  after  much  argument,  left  in  about  the 
I same  condition  as  before.  No  mere  county  convention 
I could  abrogate  work  done  by  the  National  Board,  or  the 
i Board  of  Erin.  Indeed  it  was  doubtful  if  the  Mollies  would 
ever  consent  to  any  changes,  Church  or  no  Church,  and 
whether  Bishop  O’Hara  would  not,  after  all,  have  to  follow 
the  example  of  Bishop  Wood,  and  proceed  to  deal  in  ana- 
themas and  excommunications. 

Remaining  in  Luzerne  until  the  fifth  of  June  of  the  sahie 
year,  McKenna  then  received  ordera-from  Superintendent 
, Franklin — under  whose  immediate  supervision,  guided  by 
[ Mr.  Bangs  and  myself,  he  had  all  the  time  been  acting — to 
report  at  once  in  Philadelphia,  and  he  immediately  obeyed. 

; It  should  have  been  mentioned,  in  its  proper  connection, 
that,  while  waiting  at  the  Shenandoah  depot  for  the  arrival 
[ of  the  train  to  Wilkesbarre,  on  the  fourteenth  of  May,  Tom 
- Hurley  had  cautiously  dropped  something  heavy  into  Me 
' Kenna’s  outside  coat  pocket,  whispering  at  the  same  time; 
“ Jim,  don’t  you  say  I never  made  you  a gift  of  anything  I 
You’ll  have  a hard  set  to  deal  wid,  over  in  Luzerne,  they’re 


190  A RO IV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 

tellin’  me,  an’  my  billy  ’ll  come  mighty  convanient  to  have 
at  hand  for  your  defense  ! ” 

Of  course  the  operative  expressed  his  thanks.  When  he 
arrived  in  Philadelphia,  having  no  use  for  such  a thing,  he  in 
turn  presented  the  life-preserver  to  Mr.  Franklin,  who  will  ever 
treasure  it  as  a relic  of  the  Mollie  Maguires.  This  weapon 
is  composed  of  a piece  of  untanned  cowhide,  now  as  hard  as 
horn  itself,  some  six  inches  in  length,  twisted  or  braided  into 
a sort  of  handle,  and  covered  from  end  to  end  with  woolen 
cloth.  One  extremity  is  loaded  with  three-quarters  of  a 
pound  of  lead  ; to  the  other  is  firmly  attached  a loop,  large 
enough  to  admit  a man’s  hand,  formed  of  strong  linen  cord, 
and  intended  to  allow  the  billy  to  hang  loose  from  the  wrist 
and  at  the  same  time  prevent  it  being  lost  or  wrenched  from 
the  grasp  of  its  owner.  At  close  quarters,  it  proves  a very 
savage  and  formidable  arm  of  defense,  resembling,  but  being 
much  more  dangerous  than  the  ordinary  slung-shot  in  daily 
use  by  policemen  and  others.  Twelve  ounces  of  solid  lead 
and  raw-hide,  dashed  against  the  thickest  skull  by  a strong- 
armed  ruffian,  would  as  effectually  silence  a man  as  an 
ounce  of  the  same  metal  discharged  from  the  bore  of  a 
Springfield  rifle. 

While  at  the  Agency  in  Philadelphia  McKenna  prepared 
a complete  list  of  all  the  Mollies  whose  acquaintance  he  had 
formed,  as  well  as  a regular  enumeration  of  the  officers  and 
members,  so  far  as  he  knew,  belonging  to  the  different 
divisions  in  Schuylkill  and  Luzerne  Counties,  after  which 
he  was  instructed  to  re-enter  the  field  of  operations,  in  Car- 
bon County,  and  to  particularly  investigate  the  circum- 
stances connected  with  the  assassination  of  ATorgan  Powell, 
occurring  December  2,  187 r,  and  alluded  to  in  chapter 
vii,  of  this  volume.  It  was  suspected  that  the  deed  had 
been  perpetrated  by  men  residing  in  the  vicinity,  the  system 
of  exchanges  between  Bodymasters  not  having  on  this  occa- 
sion been  observed.  Taking  the  proper  line  of  railway,  the 


A ROW,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE.  I9I 


detective  was  soon  m Mauch  Chunk,  one  of  the  most 
romantic  and  ancient-looking  towns  in  the  entire  State. 
Here,  however,  for  the  present,  he  need  spend  but  little 
time.  His  business  was  at  Summit  Hill,  and,  taking  the 
cars  over  the  Switch- back,  he  was  soon  in  that  locality. 
Going  at  once  to  the  house  of  Thos.  Fisher,  who  kept  a 
tavern  and  acted  as  County  Delegate,  he  was  well  received, 
after  making  himself  known  by  throwing  the  proper  sign, 
which  was  promptly  responded  to  by  the  Mollie.  There 
were  several  members  present  at  the  moment,  and  McKenna 
was  introduced  to  them.  Among  these  were  Daniel  Boyle, 
the  Bodymaster,  John  Gallagher,  and  Pat  McKenna — of 
those  of  the  last  name  given  the  detective  heard  there  were 
a large  number  in  the  neighborhood — naturally  they  must 
be  relatives.  Here  he  also  saw  Maguire,  the  State  Secre- 
tary of  the  order,  from  Pittsburg,  who  was  canvassing  in 
the  interest  of  his  newspaper,  the  Hibernian,  which  was  the 
i acknowledged  organ  of  the  A.  O.  H.  in  this  country.  It 
' was  here  he  heard  that  big,  blarneying,  blundering  Barney 
! Dolan  was  in  disgrace  at  headquarters  and  there  was  a 
1 chance  that  he  would  be  removed  from  his  office  as-  County 
Delegate  of  Schuylkill,  and  never  receive  any  more  “ goods  ” 

' for  the  divisions,  simply  because  he  had,  in  a fit  of  anger, 

, loudly  cursed  the  Bishop  and  the  holy  Church  of  Rome. 

All  agreed  that  Barney  should  have  been  more  respectful, 

‘ and  in  using  such  language  had  richly  merited  the  punish- 
i ment  of  expulsion  for  life. 

1 McKenna,  the  detective’s  namesake,  was  a young  man, 
above  the  average  in  intelligence,  but  loved  his  dram  as 
1 well  as  any  of  his  countrymen  in  that  vicinity. 

Fisher  had  been  tax-collector  of  the  county,  with  other  fat 
I positions,  and  was  considered  the  big  man  of  the  Mollies  in 
Carbon  County.  » 

The  detective’s  kinsman  was  even  at  that  early  day 
i suspected  of  having  been  engaged  as  a principal  in  the 


1 92  A ROPV,  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 

murder  of  Morgan  Powell,  and  Pat  very  naturally  became 
an  object  of  interest  and  a person  whose  company  Mc- 
Kenna wanted  to  keep.  That  young  man  was  at  first  rather 
shy,  but  a few  songs  and  dances,  some  drinks,  and  a distant 
cousinshii)  once  having  been  discovered,  the  heart  of  the  real 
McKenna  gradually  warmed  toward  the  party  bearing,  for 
the  time  being,  the  same  name.  The  companionship  was 
kept  up  for  some  days,  and  finally  the  detective  was’ invited 
to  McKenna’s  residence  and  introduced  to  all  of  his  rela- 
tives, girls  and  women,  boys  and  men.  There  he  made 
himself  comfortable  for  a short  time.  He  was  also  quite 
welcome,  because  of  the  stories  he  told  the  women,  and  the 
drinks  he  gave  the  men,  while  with  the  younger  crop  of 
McKennas  he  was  a great  favorite  from  his  lessons  in 
dancing  and  singing. 

During  the  latter  portion  of  June,  bidding  farewell  to 
Summit  Hill  and  its  inhabitants,  and  promising  to  call  again 
some  day — an  engagement  that  he  was  determined  to  fulfill 
— the  detective  thought  to  return  to  Luzerne,  but  stopping 
over  at  Hazelton,  during  his  stay  he  was  invited  to  attend  a 
dance  and  raffle  at  Buck  Mountain,  and  accepted.  The 
chances  were  only  a dollar,  and  the  article  to  be  won  by 
somebody  was  a brass  clock,  the  property  of  a widow  woman 
named  Breslin.  The  lady  in  question  kept  a shebeen-shop 
on  the  mountain,  and  her  husband  had,  some  months  before, 
been  killed  in  the  mine  by  the  sudden  falling  of  a pillar  near 
which  he  was  at  work.  Tickets  were  for  sale  in  every 
saloon  in  Hazelton,  and  having  procured  one,  McKenna 
started,  in  company  with  some  thirty  or  forty  Mollies,  to  walk 
to  Buck  Mountain.  At  least  more  than  half  the  distance, 
from  the  steepness  of  the  ascent,  had  to  be  made  on  foot, 
a.s  no  vehicle  could  be  drawn  up  by  horse  or  mule. 

The  party  was  held  upon  the  grounds  surrounding  Mrs. 
Breslin’ s mansion — if  mansion  it  could  be  called,  consisting, 
as  it  did,  of  one  small  room — and  the  company  was  as 


A ROIV^  A REMOVAL,  AND  A RAFFLE. 


193 


miscellaneous  as  it  was  numerous,  there  bein^  several  hun- 
dred men,  women,  and  girls  in  attendance.  But  all  could  be 
accommodated,  as  there  were  plenty  of  torches,  any  amount 
of  level  earth,  and  seven  or  eight  fiddlers  to  furnish  the 
music. 

Mrs.  Breslin — a fine  figure  of  a woman,  but  one  some- 
what along  in  years — was  celebrated  the  country  over  for 
her  good  liquor,  which,  on  this  occasion,  had  been  prepared 
in  a large  kettle,  and  was  dealt  out  steaming  hot — in  fact,  it 
was  the  Polish  blackstrap  over  again,  with  some  scraps  of 
lemon  added,  by  way  of  variety,  and  honored  with  the  name 
of  punch — hot  whisky-punch. 

The  operative  received  an  introduction  to  many  of  the 
men  and  all  of  the  women,  among  the  latter  to  a handsome 
lass,  of  rather  uncertain  age,  named  Kate  McIntyre.  Con 
O’Donnel  gave  him  the  acquaintance  of  this  handsome  and 
sprightly  lady.  She  evidently  became  smitten  with  the 
young  man,  and  despite  the  image  of  the  Tamaqua  queen. 
Miss  Higgins,  who  still  held  a place  in  his  memory,  he  paid 
her  considerable  attention,  engaging  her  hand  in  several 
successive  and  successful  reels  and  round  dances..  He 
treated  Miss  McIntyre  to  some  of  the  prevalent  beverage, 
found  that  she  liked  it,  and  took  sufficient  himself  to  make 
him  feel  jolly.  In  fact,  a little  after  ten  o’clock  at  night,  the 
whole  assemblage  was  funny,  and  after  the  clock  had  been 
raffled  for  and  won — the  winner  gracefully  making  the  widow 
a present  of  the  timepiece — the  mirth  merged  into  hilarity 
and  gradually  into  boisterousness.  Then  the  time  passed 
until  midnight,  when  there  was  a short  recess,  during  which 
Mrs.  Breslin  added  to  her  profits  by  disposing  of  a cold  col- 
lation, consisting  of  chicken,  sandwiches,  and  hard-boiled 
eggs,  of  which  the  parties  partook  with  appetite. 

Miss  McIntyre  and  her  gallant,  after  having  refreshments, 
walked  around  the  grounds,  arm  in  arm.  While  near  the 
shanty  of  Mrs.  Breslin,  they  nearly  stumbled  over  the  pros- 
9 


1 94  SNARED  D V KA  TE— HONORED  ^ K “ MOLLIEH 

trate  form  of  a man,  who  had  evidently  absorbed  too  much 
of  the  liquor.  The  drunken  fellow  slowly  opened  his  eyes, 
saw  Miss  McIntyre,  and,  rising  up  on  one  elbow,  with  a ges- 
ture called  her  to  him.  But  she  gazed  on  him  in  blank 
astonishment,  merely  turning  on  her  heel,  with  a look  of 
disdain,  and  they  walked  away. 

“ An’  who  is  your  friend  ? ” asked  McKenna. 

“I  don’t  know  the  man  at  all,”  said  Miss  McIntyre,  “ and 
I’m  sure  he  does  not  know  me  ! It  was  the  act  of  an  idiot, 
who  could  think  of  nothing  else  ! ” 

“ Well,  but  for  his  helpless  state.  I’d  just  go  back  and  bate 
the  brute  for  his  impertinence  ! ” said  McKenna. 

Kate  looked  admiringly  upon  her  companion,  out  of  her 
large,  dark  eyes,  and  they  passed  on  and  once  more  joined 
in  the  dance. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

SNARED  BY  KATE HONORED  BY  “ MOLLIE.” 

Con  O’Donnel,  who  stood  nor  far  off,  noted  the  drunken 
man’s  remark  and  was  seen  to  smile  significantly  as  Mc- 
Kenna and  the  lady  moved  from  the  spot. 

The  festivities  were  continued  until  nearly  break  of  day, 
when  the  detective,  learning  that  his  partner  had  no  male 
attendant,  politely  volunteered  to  accompany  her  home, 
which  she  said  was  no  great  distance  away.  Miss  Kate  ac- 
cepted the  proffer,  as  McKenna  afterwards  thought,  with 
slight  evidence  of  embarrassment,  and  looking  furtively 
about  her,  as  though  in  search  of  some  one  she  had  rather 
expected  to  see.  But  if  there  was  any  person  present,  her 
roguish  eye  failed  to  discern  the  fact,  and,  placing  one  hand 


Placi)?<^  on:  hand  on  the  arm  of  her  escort^  they  7aere  soon  lost  in  the  darkness. 


SNARED  BY KA TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIE. ” 1 9 5 


upon  the  arm  of  her  escort  they  were  soon  lost  in  the 
darkness. 

Con  O’Donnel  was  still  looking  after  the  couple,  around 
the  protecting  and  shaded  corner  of  the  widow’s  shanty,  from 
which,  with  a sly  chuckle,  wh^n  the  coast  was  clear,  he 
quickly  emerged  and  walked  to  the  vicinity  of  the  drunken 
man.  That  he  was  bent  upon  mischief  those  who  saw  the 
merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  were  well  convinced. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  into  a minute  description  of  the 
pleasant  walk  that  McKenna  enjoyed  with  Miss  McIntyre. 
Knowing  well  that  his  companions  from  Hazelton  would 
await  his  rea])pearance  among  them — as  the  majority  were 
in  no  condition,  from  the  poteen  they  had  imbibed,  to  under- 
take the  home  journey — he  and  his  fair  lady  did  not  hurry 
toward  the  protecting  paternal  roof.  On  the  contrary,  as  has 
been  the  usage  since  the  days  of  Adam,  they  made  haste 
slowly,  enlivening  the  trip  with  cheerful  conversation,  refer- 
ence to  the  festive  occasion  and  lucky  chance  that  brought 
them  together,  with  such  other  talk  as  would  naturally 
suggest  itself  to  a jiair  in  their  exact  mental  and  physical  con- 
dition. Tt  was  a long  story — and  a wrong  story,  too,  it  ap- 
pears— that  vivacious  Miss  McIntyre  related  to  her  im- 
promptu beau,  about  her  parents’  home,  the  family,  and  the 
trouble  they  had  to  get  along  during  the  suspension.  Mc- 
Kenna was  already  hinting  that,  if  he  were  a little  better 
acquainted,  perhaps  he  might  be  bold  enough  to  ask  the 
Lather  to  part  with  his  child,  press  her  to  change  her  condi- 
tion in  life  and  become  Mrs.  McKenna,  and  Miss  Kate  had 
started  and  blushed — but  that  could  hardly  be  seen  in  the 
dusky  gray  of  the  misty  morning — when  both  distinctly  heard 
sounds  of  footsteps  coming  swiftly  toward  them  from  the 
direction  of  widow  Breslin’s  place.  Miss  McIntyre  suddenly 
withdrew  her  arm  from  that  of  her  chevalier,  paused  in  her 
tracks  and  listened  breathlessly  for  a moment,  then,  in  a 
faint  and  trembling  voice  ejaculated  : 


1 96  SNARED  B Y KA  TE^HONORED  BY  MOLLIE:'^ 

“ My  God  ! It  is  my  husband  ! Our  lives  are  in  danger  ! 
He  will  kill  us  both  ! What  shall  I do  ?” 

“ Your  husband,  is  it  ?”  inquired  McKenna,  realizing  the 
joke  that  had  been  put  upon  him  and  fully  alive  to  the 
awkward  predicament  in  whi^ch  he  was  placeck  “Your  hus- 
band? Sure,  didn’t  Con  O’Donnel  introduce  ye  as  a single 
lady  ? Faix,  but  we  are  really  in  a purty  kettle  of  fish  ! Tell 
me,  is  yer  husband  of  the  jealous  sort  ? An’  do  ye  think  that’s 
him,  whose  feet  1 hear  makin’  such  a racket  over  the  path  ? ” 

“ Don’t  stand  here  askin’  questions,”  answered  Mrs.  Mc- 
Intyre ! Oh,  why  did  I fall  in  with  Con  O’Donnel’s  wicked 
deceit  ? I might  have  known  he  would  bring  it  about  to 
punish  me  ! He’s  just  gone  and  roused  Danny,  and  I don’t 
doubt,  if  he  catches  me  in  your  company,  there’ll  be  murder 
done  upon  the  very  spot  ! My  husband  ’ll  shoot  us  both  ! 
Oh,  that  I should  ever  have  been  so  foolish  ! ” 

McKenna  had  more  than  once  heard  of  Danny  McIntyre, 
but  without  for  a moment  suspecting  that  he  was  any  kin  to 
the  }'Oung  woman  with  whom  he  had  been  walking,  dancing, 
and  making  himself  generally  agreeable. 

“I’m  jist  of  the  mind  to  step  out  into  the  road  and  shoot 
that  husband  of  yours  before  he  has  a chance  to  say  a word 
or  do  wan  single  thing  ! ” 

“ For  mercy’s  sake,  don’t  talk  that  way!”  whispered  the 
lady,  trembling  all  over  like  an  aspen  leaf. 

“ We  must  not  be  seen  ! Here — get  you  behind  this  tree  1 
The  underbrush  will  hide  me  ! Keep  quiet  until  he  goes 
beyond  ! ” 

And,  without  a moment  to  spare,  they  disappeared  from 
view.  When  the  man  passed  their  place  of  concealment 
they  were  as  still  as  death.  McIntyre  carried  a pistol  in  his 
hand,  and  was  walking  as  rapidly  as  his  mellow  condition 
permitted,  surging  from  one  side  of  the  path  to  the  other  as 
he  moved,  but  finally,  without  discovering  the  fugitives,  he 
was  lost  to  their  sicdit. 


SNARED  B Y KA TE— HONORED  BY  MOLL/E. ” 1 9/ 


When  his  heavy  tread  could  no  longer  be  heard,  the 
couple  stood  again  in  the  road.  At  least  one  of  the  two 
breathed  more  freely — and  that  was  McKenna — when  the 
husband’s  form  could  no  longer  be  seen.  He  had  caught 
sufficient,  while  he  was  going  by,  to  convince  him  that  he 
was  the  identical  personage  who  had  spoken  to  his  lady  com- 
panion near  Mrs.  Breslin’s,  and  to  whom  Kate  had,  in  his 
presence,  refused  recognition. 

Tlie  feelings  of  both  had  undergone  a sudde'n  revulsion. 
McKenna  was  very  angry  with  Con  O’Donnel,  as  well  as 
with  the  woman  who  had  assisted  that  person  in  playing  such 
a practical  joke  upon  him,  and  Mrs.  McIntyre  was  naturally 
much  mortified  to  be  caught  in  such  an  embarrassing  situa- 
tion, being  also  fearful  of  the  treatment  to  be  expected  from 
her  husband  should  he  reach  home  before  her.  With  a cold 
and  crusty  “good  morning,  sir!”  for  the  gentleman  to 
whom  she  had  so  recently  been  saying  all  manner  of  sweet 
things,  she  added  that  she  “ could  take  a short-cut,  with  ' 
which  she  was  acquainted,  and,  going  across  lots,  make 
their  mutual  place  of  destination  before  Danny.”  Then 
Kate  took  her  departure. 

It  was  still  too  dark,  though  almost  daybreak,  for  a person 
with  the  sharpest  eyes  to  see  very  far  in  any  direction,  and 
the  probabilities  were  that  the  woman  would  get  to  her  resi- 
dence first  and  succeed  in  fooling  the  half-intoxicated 
McIntyre  with  the  belief  that  she  had  deserted  the  dancing 
place  before  midnight. 

McKenna  gave  utterance  to  a long,  low  whistle,  some- 
what expressive  of  surprise  and  partly  seeming  like  a sigh 
of  relief,  as  he  returned  by  the  road  over  which  he  had  so 
recently  passed. 

He  walked  alone  and  hurriedly  this  time. 

Arrived  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Breslin,  he  went  directly  in 
pursuit  of  Con  O Donnel,  but  that  individual  was  not  to  be 
found.  He  had  made  his  exit.  Throwing  himself,  therefore, 


1 98  SNARED  B V NA TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIES 


upon  a bundle  of  straw,  under  the  branches  of  a tree,  the 
detective  soon  forgot  his  wrath  and  his  troubles  in  sleep. 
He  had  not  been  long  in  the  land  of  Nod  when  he  was 
aroused  by  the  sound  of  a heavy  voice  calling  loudly  from 
different  parts  of  the  premises  for  Con  O’Donnel.  Near- 
ing the  operative’s  improvised  bed,  McIntyre — for  it  was  he 
— exclaimed  : 

“ Jist  tell  me  where  I’ll  find  that  spalpeen.  Con  O’Donnel, 
an’  I’ll  tache  him  to  be  afther  playin’  practical  jokes  on  me! 
I’ll  larn  him  to  tell  me  that  Kate’s  gone  off  wid  that  Jim 
IMcKenna  1 Jist  let  me  lay  these  two  ban’s  on  the  mane 
scut,  an’  I’ll  mash  the  life  out  o’  him  ! Sure,  an’  me  wife 
war  slapin’  in  her  bed,  as  a dacent  woman  should  be  ! Oh, 
tell  me  where  to  find  Con  O’Donnel  1 ” 

But  nobody  seemed  to  know  where  the  object  of  McIn- 
tyre’s anger  had  taken  himself  to,  and  the  husband  was 
compelled  to  satisfy  himself  with  some  more  whisky-punch, 
and  then  subsided,  by  the  wall  of  the  sweet-smelling  pig-pen, 
into  a drunken  stupor,  from  which,  had  he  appeared,  even 
Con  O’Donnel  would  have  failed  to  arouse  him. 

So  Mrs.  McIntyre  had  succeeded  in  duping  her  husband  ! 
This  was  sufficient  to  send  the  weary  operative  off  again 
into  slumber,  and  it  was  an  hour  after  sunrise  when  he  awoke. 
As  he  had  expected,  only  three  or  four  of  the  Hazelton 
Mollies  were  fit  to  return.  The  remainder  could  not  be 
made  sensible,  and  were  scattered  in  various  grotesque  atti- 
tudes, like  bodies  on  a sanguinary  battle-field,  about  the 
dancing-grounds,  oblivious  to  all  surrounding  them,  where 
they  were  left  to  take  care  of  themselves,  while  the  detec- 
tive and  his  more  sober  comrades  pursued  their  path  down 
Buck  Mountain  to  the  village. 

Con  O’Donnel  was  not  foolish  enough  to  put  himself  in  the 
way  of  the  Shenandoah  Mollie  during  his  short  stay  in  Car- 
bon County,  but  the  story  being  far  too  good  to  keep  bottled 
up  was  related  to  his  boon  companions,  with  many  extraor- 


SNARED  B V NA  TE— HONORED  B V ^^MOLLIE.  ” 1 99 


clinary  embellishments,  not  well  calculated  to  please  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  McIntyre,  or  suit  the  ideas  of  McICenna,  and  in  this 
way  soon  reached  general  circulation  in  a gossiping  com- 
munity. While  the  detective  was  able  to  laugh  it  off,  and 
soon  get  away  from  the  locality,  Danny  McIntyre,  when  he 
heard  what  was  being  said,  went  on  another  extended  but 
still  fruitless  search  after  the  defamer  of  his  household.  The 
man  who  had  imposed  his  wife  upon  a stranger  as  a single 
lady,  having  business  and  employment  offered  him  in  another 
part  of  the  State,  acce[)ted  the  opportunity  and  soon  removed 
from  the  neighborhood.  Still  threatening  vengeance  that  he 
was  unable  to  wreak,  McIntyre  was  forced  to  quiet  down 
and  endure  the  result  as  best  he  might.  ‘Thenceforward  the 
agent  was  more  than  ordinarily  on  his  guard,  and  ex- 
tremely careful  how  he  volunteered  to  see  unprotected 
maidens  to  their  homes,  without  first  making  diligent  inquiry 
if  there  chanced  to  be  one  Con  O’Donnel  thereabouts. 

Carbon  County  having  been  well  gone  over,  during  the 
early  part  of  July  McKenna  returned  to  Shenandoah. 

The  few  events  following,  to  the  first  of  August,  may  thus 
be  summarized  : 

The  detective  soon  found  all  his  Shenandoah  friends  about 
him.  Lawler,  Cooney,  Hurley,  Monaghan,  McAndrew, 
and  the  rest  were  very  glad  to  see  their  fellow-Mollie. 

After  the  P'ourth  had  passed,  during  which  the  members 
engaged  in  a general  good  time,  celebrating  this  day  of 
national  independence,  they  commenced  talking  about  secur- 
ing a new  Bodymaster  for  Shenandoah  division,  Lawler  not 
having  given  satisfaction  in  several  particulars.  He  seemed 
simply  doing  nothing.  The  boast  that  he  would  rapidly 
increase  the  membership  had  fallen  short.  Numbers  were 
leaving,  not  liking  the  style  of  the  presiding  officer,  instead 
of  flocking  in  and  joining  the  order.  It  was  hinted  to 
McKenna  by  several,  that  if  he  would  accept,  he  might  have 
the  place  of  Bodymaster.  He  very  wisely  refused  the  tempt- 


200  SNARED  B V KA TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIE. ” 


ing  bait,  but  returned  answer  that,  if  they  must  honor  him  in 
this  style — and  for  such  an  elevation  he  was  by  no  means 
anxious — it  should  be  in  the  bestowal  of  some  subordinate 
position. 

It  was  at  this  date  that  there  arose  considerable  talk 
among  the  Mollies  about  one  Gomer  James,  who  had  not 
long  before  shot  and  killed  a member  of  the  order  named 
Cosgrove,  living  near  Shenandoah.  James  was  arrested,  but 
secured  bail  and  would  soon  be  at  large.  Ned  Monaghan 
and  several  others  were  desirous  that  Lawler  should  get 
some  men  from  an  adjoining  body  and  have  Gomer  James 
quietly  put  out  of  harm’s  way,  but,  somehow,  Muif  could  not, 
or  would  not,  comply  with  their  wishes.  Therefore,  ex-con- 
stable Monaghan — not  Ed.  Monaghan — expressed  himself 
in  favor  of  having  an  officer  who  would  and  could  perform 
the  job.  Barney  Dolan  was  sent  for,  and  Lawler  forced  to 
send  in  his  resignation,  so  that  the  Country  Delegate  might 
appoint  a successor. 

To  make  matters  more  unsettled,  and  the  Mollies  more 
lively,  a general  suspension  of  active  operations  occurred  on 
the  sixth  of  July,  all  the  collieries  belonging  to  the  Philadel- 
phia and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  as  well  as  those 
the  property  of,  or  leased  by,  individual  operators,  closing 
business  and  refusing  longer  to  keep  on  at  a loss,  with  ex- 
])ected  permanent  detriment  to  the  mining  interest.  Labor 
ot  nearly  all  kinds  was  at  a standstill.  Thousands  of  men 
were  without  employment.  The  vicious  and  unprincipled 
of  these  being  left  to  idleness,  and  naturally  ready  for  any- 
thing, it  was  anticipated  that  outrages  would  quickly  follow. 
Such  always  had  been  the  case,  and  probably  always  would 
be,  under  the  prevailing  system  of  managing  the  coal  regions. 
But  one  or  two  collieries  kept  at  work  in  all  Schuylkill 
County.  Many  of  the -miners  and  their  helpers  sought  for- 
getfulness in  liquor.  Among  this  number  were  several  of 
McKenna’s  associates,  Hurley  being  notably  one  of  the  first 


SNARED  B V KA  TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIE,  ” 201 


to  begin  and  the  last  to  terminate  a spree.  He  loudly  and 
openly  cursed  the  Modocs,  and  ended  by  saying  that  Gomer 
James,  and  those  like  him,  who  were  responsible  for  hard 
times,  must  look  out,  as  some  of  them  would  sup  sorrow 
during  that  summer.  How  they  could  be  chargeable  with  a 
stoppage  of  the  works  he  did  not  pretend  to  explain,  but  put 
it  ujion  them,  without  explanation,  merely  because  he  did 
not  know  where  else  to  place  it. 

On  one  occasion  Hurley  exhibited  a handsome  set  of  brass 
knuckles,  that  he  had  borrowed  of  Martin  Deane,  and  which 
were  intended  to  be  used  upon  somebody.  Shortly  there- 
after, Deane  left  for  Loss  Creek,  and  he  had  been  gone 
only  a few  days  when  a man  named  Reilly  was  shot  and 
mortally  wounded,  by  one  Anthony  Shaw,  known  to  be 
Deane’s  butty.  Suspicion  fastened  upon  the  latter  as  an 
accomplice  in  the  shooting,  but  there  was  no  evidence  point- 
ing him  out  as  the  accessory. 

In  the  meantime,  Frank  McAndrew  was  the  prominent 
candidate  for  Body  mas  ter,  and,  on  the  fifteenth  of  July,  the 
big  County  Delegate,  Barney  Dolan,  appeared  in  Shenan- 
doah, saying  something  should  be  done,  and  done  at  once, 
otherwise  their  organization  in  the  town  should  be  disbanded. 
Dolan  sought  an  early  interview  with  McKenna  and  came 
out  plainly  with  the  wish  that  the  detective  should  accept  the 
Bodymastership ; but  he  firmly  refused,  saying  his  con- 
science would  not  let  him  take  it  when  there  were  so 
many  more  worthy  men  in  the  division  ; and  he  clinched  the 
statement  by  hinting  that  he  did  not  know  at  what  moment 
the  officers  from  Buffalo  might  pounce  upon  him.  In  such 
an  event  the  divisioi\would  be  disgraced.  No  ! he  could  not 
fill  that  office  ! Whatever  he  did  must  be  in  a subordinate 
position,  or  as  a common  member.  The  same  day.  Hurley, 
Monaghan,  McAndrew,  and  the  detective  met  in  Lawler’s 
house,  at  once  shut  Mrs.  Lawler  in  the  little,  back  kitchen, 
off  the  bar,  locked  and  bolted  the  door  against  her,  and  pro- 

9- 


202  SNARED  BY  KA  TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIE.  ” 


ceeded  to  hold  a special  meeting,  one  man  having  been 
stationed  without  to  give  warning,  should  any  straggling 
stranger  chance  to  stroll  to  the  vicinity.  After  some  desul- 
tory conversation,  Frank  McAndrew  was  duly  a))pointed 
Bodymaster  for  the  remainder  of  the  term,  and  instructed  in 
the  duties  of  the  position.  He  was  informed  that  he  must 
make  all  the  members  pay  up  their  dues,  or  be  cut  off. 
Dolan  said  that,  hereafter,  it  must  be  a beneficial  society. 
The  charge  had  gained  circulation  that  charity  was  not 
among  the  virtues  practiced  by  the  A.  O.  H.,  and  it  should 
be  disproved.  After  some  more  talk  of  this  sort,  the  County 
Delegate,  quite  muddled  with 'drink,  and  well  satisfied  with 
himself  and  his  official  acts,  left  for  home. 

That  very  night,  at  a late  hour,  as  McKenna  and  Mona- 
ghan were  passing  the  house  of  Gomer  James,  the  obnoxious 
young  Welshman,  on  the  route  homeward,  the  ex-constable 
pulled  out  his  revolver  and  wanted  to  fire  into  the  building, 
saying,  if  he  “only  knew  where  Gomer  James’  head  rested 
he’d  send  a bullet  there.”  He  was  only  prevented  from 
putting  his  project  into  execution  by  McKenna,  who  seized 
the  pistol  and  compelled  its  owner  to  put  it  away.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  programme  of  the  detective  authorizing 
him  to  become  an  accomplice  in  outrage  when  it  could  be 
avoided. 

At  the  ensuing  regular  meeting  of  the  division,  held  in 
McHugh’s  house,  on  the  eighteenth  of  July,  an  election  took  ; 
place.  McAndrew  was  confirmed  as  Bodymaster  for  the  ; 
current  term,  James  McHugh  elected  Treasurer,  James  M^ 
Kenna,  Secretary,  and  all  were  regularly  installed.  It  was  | 
really  a business  meeting.  James  O’Brien,  Charles  Hayes,  i 
and  Jolin  Travers  were  accepted,  subsequently  initiated,  and 
other  persons  proposed  as  members. 

Lawler  was  not  present,  having  gone  into  a fit  of  the  sulks, 
because  of  his  removal  by  Barney  Dolan,  in  the  first  place, 
and  from  the  failure  of  the  members  to  re-elect  him  Body- 


SNARED  BY  ETA  TE— HONORED  BY  MOLL/E. 203 


master,  in  the  second  place.  He  temporarily  resigned  mem- 
bership, but  promised,  after  he  had  been  a quarter  of  a year 
in  the  Church,  that  he  would  resume  active  participation  in 
their  proceedings.  This  was  perfectly  satisfactory  to  those 
concerned. 

All  things  considered,  Shenandoah  Division  succeeded 
better  than  before.  Although  McAndrew  was  troubled  to 
read  writing,  and  even  perused  print  indifferently,  he  soon 
made,  with  McKenna’s  assistance,  a very  fair  presiding 
officer.  The  detective  had  to  go  to  his  assistance  in  the 
ceremony  of  initiation,  was  called  upon  to  deliver  the  obli- 
gation, or  test,  as  it  was  sometimes  described,  and  instruct 
the  novitiates  in  the  signs,  pass-words,  and  toasts,  but  other- 
wise McAndrew  managed  affairs  exceedingly  well.  This 
election  to  the  Secretaryship  gave  the  agent  standing  with 
the  members,  furnished  him  a safe  place  in  which  to  write 
his  reports,  and  also  an  excuse  for  carrying  on  considerable 
correspondence.  Should  suspicion  thereafter  ask  a single 
question,  he  could  plainly  answer  : “ Am  I not  the  Secre- 
tary ? And  have  I not  the  writing  of  the  division  to  attend 
to?”  While  instructing  the  members  in  the  “goods”  his 
memory  would  be  stored  with  their  salient  features  and  he 
be  enabled  the  more  correctly  to  report  them  to  the  Agency. 
The  Mollies  being  generally  uneducated,  such  a position 
gave  its  occupant  high  standing  in  the  order. 

It  was  not  long  after  Mcx\ndrew’s  succession  to  the  Body- 
master’s  chair,  that  he  commenced,  spurred  on  by  Monaghan 
and  Hurley,  arguing  seriously  with  the  detective,  whenever 
he  found  an  opportunity,  about  the  case  of  Gomer  James, 
the  murderer  of  Cosgrove,  and  to  perfect  plans  for  the  Welsh- 
man’s sudden  taking  off.  He  often  referred  to  the  timber 
of  which  Shenandoah  Division  was  composed,  and  regretted 
that  it  had  no  suitable  men  to  do  a clean  job.  But  he  said 
there  was  encouragement  now,  as  new  members  were  fast 
coming  in,  and  it  could  not  be  long  before  the  right  sort 


204  SNARED  BY KA TE— HONORED  BY  MOLLIE. ” 


would  be  plentiful.  When  he  found  the  persons  for  the 
deed  he  would  not  be  slow  in  selecting  and  sending  them 
upon  the  track  of  the  enemy.  One  John  Gibbons,  who, 
about  this  date,  came  to  the  town  with  a letter  from  Barney 
Dolan,  he  had  hopes  of.  He  was  looked  upon  as  about  the 
manner  of  man  needed  for  any  outrageous  business,  and  cer- 
tainly appeared  bad  enough  to  the  eye,  and  consumed  suffi- 
cient whisky  to  constitute  a first-class  ruffian. 

McAndrew  was  excessively  proud  of  the  eminence  to  which 
he  had  been  conducted,  and  acted  as  though  not  far  from 
parting  with  his  senses  when  a delegation  of  neighboring 
Bodymasters,  comprising  “ Bucky”  Donnelly,  of  Raven  Run, 
James  Munley,  of  Rappahannock,  and  several  other  ])romi- 
nent  Mollies,  called  in  a crowd  at  his  house,  with  their  con- 
gratulations upon  his  good  luck,  and  wishing  him  every  suc- 
cess in  office.  As  a natural  consequence  of  such  a shower 
of  compliments,  McAndrew  treated  several  times  to  the  best 
that  could  be  found  in  the  city,  and,  after  making  a day  of 
it,  went  to  bed  late  at  night  as  drunk  as  a lord,  when  he 
had  bid  his  visitors  farewell  at  the  train  by  which  they 
departed. 

It  was  a considerable  task  for  McKenna  to  teach 
McAndrew  the  prayers  with  which  every  meeting  of  the 
Mollie  Maguires  was  opened  and  closed — for  these  men  of 
blood  did  not  hesitate  to  introduce  and  canvass  their  mur- 
derous acts  and  begin  and  end  their  councils,  at  which  the 
taking  of  human  life  was  deliberately  discussed,  with  a peti- 
tion for  the  blessing  of  the  Father  to  rest  upon  them — there- 
fore, after  receiving  one  or  two  lessons  at  the  house,  and  in 
the  bush,  the  Bodymaster  said  if  the  operative  would  reduce 
the  forms  to  writing  he  would  have  his  wife  repeat  them  to 
him  until  they  were  fixed  in  his  memory.  When  this  was 
done,  and  McAndrew  had  secured  some  instruction  in  par- 
liamentary usage,  the  new-fledged  President  considered  his 
education  complete. 


SNARED  B Y KA  TE— HONORED  B Y MOLLIES  205 


At  each  and  every  conference  of  the  two  men,  McAndrew 
now  would  say  to  the  detective  that  Monaghan,  or  some 
other  party,  had  once  more  been  urging  the  necessity  of  do- 
ing something  with  Gomer  James.  McKenna  endeavored  to 
make  the  Bodymaster  believe  it  useless  to  pay  any  attention 
to  these  demands,  holding  that  they  would  soon  cease  and 
their  cause  be  forgotten.  But  that  official,  while  he  did  not 
wish  to  assume  any  such  responsibility,  was  not  able  to  see 
the  road  by  which  it  could  be  avoided.  And  McKenna, 
on  his  part,  did  not  dare  oppose  too  strenuously.  Such  a 
course  would  cause  McAndrew  to  drop  his  communications 
on  the  subject,  and  then  possibly  the  work  might  go  on  with- 
out his  Secretary’s  knowledge.  One  day  the  head  of  the 
division  arrived  at  the  decided  stand  that,  as  soon  as  the 
number  of  members  should  justify,  he  would  levy  an  assess- 
ment, and  collect  a fund  to  pay  for  the  services  of  men  from 
some  adjoining  division  to  come  over  to  Shenandoah  and 
“ put  Gomer  James  off  his  legs.” 

McKenna  saw  that  McAndrew’s  mind  was  firmly  made  up 
in  this  direction,  hence  gave  no  further  check  to  the  busi- 
ness. A contrary  plan,  he  was  well  aware,  would  prove  of 
no  avail,  and,  resolving  merely  to  watch  closely  the  course 
of  events,  he  remained  silent.  Should  the  Mollies  under- 
take to  murder  the  young  Welshman,  as  he  feared  they 
might;  his  duty  was  plain.  He  must,  while  appearing  to 
favor  the  deed,  do  all  he  could  to  prevent  its  consummation, 
and  at  the  same  time  keep  Mr.  Franklin  well  informed  in 
every  stage  of  the  game,  to  the  end  that  the  Superintendent 
might,  if  he  deemed  it  advisable,  capture  the  criminals  be- 
fore the  act,  or  notify  James  of  his  danger.  It  did  not 
trouble  the  brain  of  the  agent  much,  as  he  was  fixed  in  his 
belief  that  nobody  could  attempt  the  crime  without  his 
knowledge.  And  he  felt  sure  that,  being  fully  advised  as  to 
what  was  going  on,  he  would  be  in  good  time  to  preserve 
the  intended  victim’s  life. 


206  snared  by  KA  TE— honored  by  MOLLTEy 

He  quickly  found  out  that  there  was  a general  complaint, 
which  neither  Bodymaster  nor  Secretary  could  afford  to 
overlook.  It  was  in  the  shape  of  an  inquiry,  set  on  foot  by 
Monaghan  and  Hurley,  asking  : “ Why  is  not  something  done 
for  the  removal  of  Gomer  James?”  There  was  but  one 
response  to  be  made  to  this  question,  and  that  must  be  : “ It 
shall  have  attention,” 

Having  done  all  he  could  to  counteract  this  demand  on 
the  part  of  the  Mollies,  McKenna  visited  Pottsville,  where 
he  found  his  particular  friend,  Pat  Dormer,  of  the  far-famed 
Sheridan  Plouse,  in  a terribly  shattered  condition  of  mind 
and  body.  After  a long  debauch,  during  the  course  of  which 
Pat  had  driven  his  wife  almost  insane,  and  finally  out  of 
doors,  he  was  suffering  the  consequences  of  his  errors  and 
keeping  house  by  himself,  which  was  lonely  enough  to  make 
the  giant  quite  distracted.  In  fact,  he  was  about  as  misera- 
ble a piece  of  sixToot  humanity  as  ever  the  detective  looked 
upon.  He  brightened  up  a little,  however,  when  he  grasped 
McKenna’s  hand  and  heard  his  cheerful  voice,  and  tried  to 
become  more  like  his  former  jovial  self,  but  it  was  a failure, 
and  ended  with  subsidence  into  a deeper  fit  of  despondency 
than  had  before  possessed  him. 

McKenna  exerted  himself  to  bring  Dormer  around  to  his 
senses  again,  partly  because  he  hated  to  see  him  so  wretched, 
partly  to  learn  what  he  knew  of  the  Mollies,  and  finally 
so  far  succeeded  that  Dormer  invited  him  to  enjoy  a car- 
riage ride  over  the  mountain.  During  their  journey  Pat 
begged  his  companion  to  visit  Mrs.  Dormer  and  try  to  induce 
her  once  more  to  return  to  his  and  her  home,  engaging 
faithfully  to  go  before  the  priest  and  take  an  oath  never  to 
drink  another  drop  of  liquor  if  she  would  forgive  him.  This 
the  detective  had  to  ])romise.  He  did,  later  in  the  day,  try 
his  hand  as  family  peacemaker  with  the  lady  in  question, 
but  without  success,  as  she  utterly  refused  ever  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  her  husband.  She  said  he  thought  nothing 


A FRIGHT^  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL.  20/ 


of  an  oath,  and  might  break  it  within  tliirty  days.  Her  life 
would  be  in  constant  danger,  and  McKenna  could  hardly 
blame  her  for  preferring  a comfortable  and  quiet  home, 
where  she  was,  to  the  trouble  and  disorder  in  which  Dormer 
was  always  embroiled. 

After  wandering  over  the  mines,  calling  upon  the  princi- 
pal Mollies,  and  thoroughly  sounding  the  miners  on  the 
subject  of  the  suspension,  the  Secretary  returned,  about  the 
first  of  August,  to  Shenandoah.  There  he  was  gladly  re- 
ceived by  the  officers  and  members  of  his  division,  and  soon 
learned  that,  on  the  fourth  of  the  month,  there  was  to  be  a 
meeting  of  County  Delegates  at  Tremont.  It  now  became 
his  special  object  to  lay  his  wires  in  such  shape  that  he 
would  be  reasonably  sure  of  discovering,  at  an  early  day,  the 
general  purport,  if  not  full  particulars,  of  the  business  trans- 
acted by  the  convention. 

Could  it  be  that  this  arrangement  foreshadowed  evil  to 
Comer  James  ? 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL. 

Time  passed,  however,  and  the  murder  of  Comer  James 
was  not  accomplished.  In  truth,  it  was  little  spoken  of. 
Political  excitements  and  the  occurrence  of  other  absorbing 
events  appeared  to  cause  the  Mollies  to  bury,  if  not  forget, 
their  enmity  to  the  young  Welshman.  But,  as  facts  dis- 
tinctly indicated,  their  vengeance  was  only  sleeping,  to  be 
awakened,  in  the  future,  with  added  strength  and  fury. 

Barney  Dolan,  as  my  agent  at  about  this  time  learned, 
encountered  fresh  trials.  There  was  a movement  on  foot  to 


208  a fright,  a fight,  and  a funeral. 


get  entirely  rid  of  him.  It  culminated  in  the  meeting  of  the 
County  Convention,  oonsisting  of  Bodymasters  of  all  the 
principal  divisions,  at  Mahanoy  City,  upon  the  peremptory 
call  of  the  State  Delegate,  Captain  Gallagher.  As  a i)art  of 
the  proceedings,  which  were  promptly  reported  to  the  Secre- 
tary by  Frank  McAndrews,  Dolan  was  cut  off  for  life  from 
all  participation  in,  or  beneht  from,  .the  order — in  other 
words,  expelled — and  fined  in  the  sum  of  five  hundred  dollars, 
on  account  of  his  failure  to  report  and  pay  over  to  the  State 
oflicials  certain  collections  that  he  had  made  for  the  current 
year.  While  this  summary  action  fell  particularly  hard  upon 
Barney,  constituting  an  act  for  which  he  appeared  wholly 
unprepared,  it  was  not  unexpected  by  McKenna,  who,  it  will 
be  remembered,  heard  the  topic  hinted  at  by  the  State 
Secretary,  Maguire,  while  visiting,  some  weeks  before,  at 
Summit  Hill.  « 

The  Convention  then  proceeded  to  nominate  and  elect — 
as  it  seemed  to  have  the  right  to  do — Dolan’s  successor  in 
office,  and  John  Kehoe,  of  Girardville,  was  declared  the 
unanimous  choice.  That  cunning  wire-puller  and  artful 
dodger,  it  seemed,  had  his  tricks  ready  prepared,  long  before 
the  day  set  for  the  Convention,  and  it  was  the  easiest  thing 
possible  for  him  to  slide  his  thin  feet  into  Dolan’s  big  shoes. 

The  decision  of  the  meeting  was  also  expressed,  by  vote 
of  a majority  of  those  present,  that  something  more  should 
be  done  to  make  the  world  look  upon  the  Ancient  Order  of 
Hibernians  as  purely  and  simply  a benevolent  institution,  in 
the  coal  regions,  as  it  was  supposed  to  be  in  other  portions 
of  the  United  States.  It  must  no  longer  be  accused  of 
murders  and  assassinations,  and  lesser  outrages,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  gain  credit,  at  home  and  abroad,  as  the  tried  sup- 
port of  the  widow  and  orphan,  and  the  source  of  relief  for 
the  laborer,  when  unable  to  work,  or  when  otherwise  thrown 
out  of  employment.  The  real  Mollies  laughed  in  their 
sleeve,  meanwhile,  and  none  more  heartily  than  John  Kehoe, 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGIIT^  AND  A FUNERAL.  20g 


the  newly-elected  County  Delegate.  Capt.  Gallagher  might 
say  and  do  what  he  would,  the  County  Conventions,  the 
State  Conventions,  and  their  officers,  might  pass  resolutions, 
and  issue  orders  and  commands,  and,  after  all,  the  small  yet 
potential  ring  within  their  circle,  encompassing  the  counties 
of  Schuylkill,  Carbon,  and  Columbia,  would  manage  affairs 
and  shape  results,  through  the  use  of  the  order,  to  suit  them- 
selves. If  murders  and  outrages  were  to  be  wrought,  the 
Mollies  had  the  organization,  and  the  society  held  the  men 
in  its  midst  to  perform  them  quickly  and  well.  The  State 
Delegate  could  return  to  his  home  in  Pittsburg,  if  he  so 
pleased,  and  set  forth  to  the  other  officials  that  he  had 
permanently  fixed  affairs  in  the  anthracite  regions,  might 
even  flatter  himself  that  he  really  had  accomplished  some- 
thing in  the-  proper  direction  ; still  the  Mollies  knew  better, 
being  fully  aware  that,  at  the  moment  of  holding  this  Conven- 
tion, the  lives  of  men  were  being  threatened  by  themselves 
and  their  associates.  These  menaces  were  soon  to  be  con- 
summated. The  machinery  sometimes  moved  tardily,  but, 
like  the  monster  engine  that  propels  the  largest  vessel,  it 
performed  its  work  remorselessly,  almost  noiselessly,  and 
effectually. 

The  Convention  passed  its  resolves  and  adjourned. 

Several  violent  outrages,  of  more  or  less  importance  and 
cruelty,  were  perpetrated  at  this  date.  About  one  of  them 
McKenna  learned  from  Frank  McAndrew,  the  night  after 
the  Convention,  when  he  had  retired  to  his  room  at  Cooney’s 
and  prepared  to  sleep.  The  Bodymaster  came  at  a late 
hour,  roused  the  landlord,  and  demanded  admittance  to  the 
Secretary,  which  Cooney  could  not  well  refuse,  went  up  to 
the  room,  and,  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  informed 
that  weary  personage  that  he,  McAndrew,  having  just  left 
“ Bucky  ” Donnelly,  of  Raven  Run,  from  that  person  had 
received  the  particulars  of  a fight  between  the  Mollies  and 
the  Sheet  Irons,  at  Connor’s  Patch,  a night  or  two  previously. 


210 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL. 


Phil.  Nash,  John  Brennan,  alias  “ Spur  ” Brennan,  and 
Donnelly  were  engaged  in  it,  oj)pOsed  by  a large  force  of 
German  and  Welsh  miners.  From  the  narrative  of  Mc- 
Andrew  it  seemed  to  have  been  another  edition  of  Donny- 
brook  Fair.  Two  of  the  Sheet  Iron  lads  received  wounds 
from  pistol  shots — one  being  considered  as  mortally  hurt. 
After  McAndrew  had  taken  leave,  McKenna  sought  slumber, 
but  was  once  more  awakened  by  Tom  Hurley,  who  desired 
to  give  his  version  of  the  affair.  He  fully  corroborated  the 
story  McAndrew  told,  and  added  : 

“Sure,  then.  Jack  Kehoe  went  the  bail  of  ivery  mother’s 
son  of  ’em  yesterday,  at  the  coort ! ” 

“ That  accounts  for  the  big  vote  from  that  part  of  the 
county  cast  for  Jack  Kehoe  for  County  Delegate  ! ” 

“An’  you’re  right,  there  ! ” said  Hurley. 

After  thus  filling  the  listener’s  brain  with  subjects  for  fright- 
ful dreams.  Hurley  also  left  the  room,  and  McKenna  was 
not  sorry  to  be  alone. 

The  operative  did  not  quickly  recover  from  his  illness, 
and,  during  several  weeks,  was  constantly  under  the  doctor’s 
care,  yet  managing  to  be  about  the  city,  part  of  the  time. 
After  paying  a visit  to  his  physician,  one  morning,  the 
report  reached  his  ears,  through  a friend,  that,  as  a supposed 
leader  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  in  the  county,  his  life  was  in 
imminent  danger.  Father  Bridgeman — so  ran  the  story — was 
joining  hands  with  the  avowed  enemies  of  the  order — in  fact, 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  Iron  Clads,  everywhere  de- 
nouncing the  Mollies  and  giving  all  perfect  freedom  to  hunt 
out  and  shoot  them  down  wherever  found.  It  was  hardly 
])robable,  the  operative  believed,  the  priest  would  ever  carry 
his  resentment  thus  far.  But  should  the  tale  prove  true, 
bloodshed  was  sure  to  follow.  For  his  own  part,  he  would 
now  have  double  duty  to  perform.  One,  for  the  Agency,  in 
following  up  the  work  of  the  society,  and  if  possible,  bring- 
ing the  perpetrators  of  crime  to  punishment,  and  another, 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL, 


2II 


the  care  of  his  own  life,  which  was  liable  to  be  lost  as  a 
consequence  of  his  complete  assumption  of  the  guise  of  a 
Mollie  Macfuire.  The  task  had  been  difficult  before.  Now 

O 

it  was  assuming  gigantic  proportions.  To  complicate  and 
retard  matters,  he  was  ill,  and  necessarily  confined  much 
of  the  time  to  one  place,  if  not  to  his  sleeping-room. 

After  recovering  somewhat,  McKenna  accompanied  Mc- 
Andrew  on  a visit  to  Jack  Kehoe,  at  Girardville,  to  find  out 
if  certain  rumors  about  the  County  Delegate  threatening  to 
refuse  recognition  to  Shenandoah  Division  were  true  or  not. 
"When  the  question  was  put  to  Kehoe,  he  laughed  hypocriti- 
cally and  replied  : 

Far  from  it  ! on  the  conthrar)q  I am  prepared  to  say  to 
yez,  that,  upon  the  payment  of  its  back  dues,  Shenandoah 
Division  can  not  only  go  on  swimmingly,  but,  by  applying  to 
the  County  Secretary,  Cavin,  this  very  da}’’,  if  you  wish,  you 
kin  recaive  the  ‘ goods  ’ for  the  quarther.  An’  let  me  say, 
by  way  of  explanation,  that  whoever  started  the  story  I 
iver  intended  differently  is  a liar,  an’  I’ll  say  it  to  his  face  ! ” 

This  was  satisfactory  to  his  visitors,  the  matter  was  soon 
settled,  and  they  left  to  call  on  Cavin. 

They  also  went  to  see  Barney  Dolan,  the  great  deposed, 
finding  him  very  despondent.  He  said  his  trial  before 
the  Convention  was  a one-sided  farce,  and  as  for  fining 
him  five  hundred  dollars,  it  was  simply  infamous.  Thinking 
that  there  might  be  a chance  for  his  case  before  the  National 
Board,  he  had  already  written  to  Campbell,  the  National 
Secretary,  at  New  York,  but  that  worthy  answered  him  briefly 
and  to  the  point,  that  he,  Dolan,  was  cut  off,  root  and 
branch,  and  could  only  be  reinstated  by  vote  of  the  State 
Convention,  upon  settlement  of  all  arrearages  and  suffering 
three  months’  probation. 

“ All  of  which,”  said  Barney,  ‘‘  shows  that  I am  in  the 
minority  now,  and  for  the  present  Jack  Kehoe  is  boss  ! 
But,  by  the  rod  of  Aaron,  and  Moses  too,  I’ll  be  back  again, 


212 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL, 


one  of  these  fine  days,  spite  of  King  Kehoe  an’  all  who  are 
forninst  me  ! Wait  a while  and  see  what’ll-happen  !” 

And  Barney  winked  his  dexter  eye  in  a winning  way,  as  he 
placed  the  bottle  of  whisky  on  the  counter  for  McAndrew 
and  his  Secretary. 

Some  articles  appeared  in  a Western  paper,  at  this  date, 
charging  that  the  Mollies  determined  who  should  act  as  as- 
sassins by  lot,  or  with  dice.  This  we  knew  very  well  to  be 
untrue,  but  no  attention  was  given  the  report.  The  truth 
was,  the  Bodymaster  of  a division,  having  himself  conceived 
the  necessity  for  an  occurrence  of  the  kind — or,  upon  secret 
or  open  petition  of  any  influential  member  of  the  order  to 
have  some  man  put  out  of  the  way — at  once  called  upon 
the  proper  men  to  perform  the  deed.  Their  plain  duty  was 
to  obey,  without  questioning  as  to  the  why  or  wherefore. 
So  blindly  did  the  Mollies  follow  their  officers  in  this,  as  in 
other  matters,  that  they  seldom  failed,  in  the  end,  to  accom- 
plish all  that  was  required — then  the  order  gave  the  assassins 
protection,  through  an  alibi,  or  aided  with  money  to  be  em- 
ployed in  flying  from  the  country.  There  was  no  need  of  a 
game  of  chance  to  decide.  It  wanted  only  the  decree  or 
request  of  the  Bodymaster,  which  was  to  be  complied  with 
implicitly,  and  from  which  there  was  no  appeal.  McKenna 
apprehended  that,  in  due  course  of  events,  he  might  be  called 
upon  by  McAndrew — from  his  late  acquired  reputation  as 
a violent  character — to  perform  some  work  of  this  sort. 
However,’  by  feigning  intoxication,  and  in  reality  making 
way  with  a great  quantity  of  liquor — when  he  could  not,  by 
exchanging  glasses,  or  by  some  hocus-pocus  or  legerdemain, 
make  those  present  believe  he  imbibed  when  he  did  not — he 
endeavored  to  create  the  impression  among  the  Mollies — and 
he  had  already  caused  the  general  public  to  believe  it — that  * 
he  was  quite  unreliable,  as  he  was  too  often  under  the  control 
of  drink.  That  he  succeeded  in  this  he  soon  became  satis- 
fied from  conversations  transpiring  in  his  presence,  while 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL. 


213 


seemingly  soaked  to  the  point  of  stupidity  in  whisky,  sodden 
and  insensible,  on  the  bar-room  floor,  or  limply  resting 
upon  a bench  in  the  corner. 

On  one  occasion  he  heard  Hurley  say  : 

“Jim’s  a splendid  fellow,  a good  scholar,  as  far  as  book 
lamin’  goes,  an’  a fighter  not  to  meddle  with — when  he’s 
McKenna.  But  he’s  too  often  somebody  else  ! Whisky’s 
too  powerful  for  his  head,  an’  a good  job  might  be  spoiled 
by  givin’  it  in  his  charge  ! ” 

“That’s  so,”  said  McAndrew,  who  was  standing  near. 

They  little  thought  their  associate’s  love  for  and  indul- 
gence in  liquor  was  all  assumed,  ,and  that,  at  the  very 
moment,  he  was,  in  reality,  as  sober  as  a judge  and  taking 
mental  note  of  every  word  and  act  of  the  surrounding 
squad  of  Mollies.  The  emergencies  of  his  great*  work, 
had  he  been  otherwise  inclined,  which  he  was  not,  would 
have  kept  my  emissary  from  over-indulgence  during  a resi- 
dence in  that  particular  vicinity. 

Thus  was  McKenna  made  safe  for  the  present.  While  he 
could  listen,  and  learn,  without  danger  of  having  to  partici- 
pate in  troubles,  for  a season,  yet  he  knew  that  such  a game 
would  not  long  serve  his  purpose,  as  he  must  be  dragged  in 
at  last,  or  lose  the  confidence  of  those  now  ])lacing  their 
trust  in' him.  It  was  well  he  adopted  the  ruse,  however,  as  he 
knew  not  when  his  time  might  come. 

On  the  tenth  of  August,  1874,  at  the  regular  meeting  of 
Shenandoah  division,  the  new  “goods”  were  given  out,  as 
follows  : 

The  password  was  : 

“ What  do  you  think  of  the  Mayo  election  ?” 

“ I think  the  fair  West  made  a bad  selection  ! ” 

The  answer  was  : 

“ Whom  do  you  think  will  duly  betray  ? ” 


214  A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL, 


The  quarreling  toast  was  : 

Question — “ Don’t  get  your  temper  high  ! ” 

Aus7ver — “ Not  with  a friend  ! ” 

The  sign  was  made  by  placing  the  thumb  of  the  right  hand 
into  the  [locket  of  the  jiantaloons. 

The  answer,  by  putting  the  thumb  of  the  left  hand  on  the 
lower  lip. 

McKenna  faithfully  reported  these  things  to  Mr.  Franklin 
the  same  night,  des[)ite  his  illness,  and  mailed  the  letter  be- 
fore retiring  to  his  apartment. 

The  morning  of  Tuesday,  the  eleventh  of  August,  the 
detective  was  awakened  by  his  boarding-master,  Cooney, 
with  the  information  that  two  men,  whose  personal  appear- 
ance he  minutely  described,  and  did  not  like,  had  called  for 
and  wanted  very  much  to  see  him.  Cooney  put  them  off, 
saying  McKenna  was  not  at  home,  but  would  be  by  nine 
o’clock.  He  thought  it  prudent  to  do  so,  and  also  to  warn 
his  lodger  to  have  a care  for  himself.  They  were  gone,  but 
would  soon  return.  This  person  could  not  remember  ever 
having  seen  parties  of  their  exact  shape  and  size,  and  it 
struck  him  that  possibly  the)'  came  from  the  Sheet  Irons  to 
assassinate  him,  because  of  the  recent  permission  granted  by 
the  priest.  This  impression  it  was  impossible  to  shake  off 
while  he  was  dressing.  Before  going  down  to  breakfast, 
therefore,  he  examined  the  cartridges  in  his  revolver,  tested 
the  condition  of  the  lock,  and  left  the  weapon — carelessly,  it 
must  be  admitted — at  full  cock,  deposited  in  his  right-hand 
outside  coat  pocket,  convenient  for  use,  in  case  of  an 
emergency.  He  ate  the  morning  meal  in  no  pleasant  frame 
of  mind.  But  all  was  made  clear,  and  his  preparations  for 
active  hostilities  shown  to  be  unnecessar)',  by  the  coming  in 
of  his  callers,  who  were  only  Peter  Duffy  and  Alanus 
O’Donnell,  of  Hazelton,  with  whom  he  had  fraternized 
during  the  eventful  dance  and  raffle  at  Buck  Mountain. 
He  suspected  they  were  absent  on  some  murderous  errand, 


215 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL. 

jDut  had  no  fear  that  he  was  their  supposed  victim.  The 
Secretary  received  his  friends  cordially,  and  after  an  invita- 
tion to  Cleary’s  saloon,  and  laughing  over  a few  jokes  upon 
his  escapade  with  the  fascinating  Mrs.  McIntyre,  McKenna 
endeavored  to  find  out  the  business  the  men  had  in  Schuyl- 
kill County,  but  they  continued  stubbornly  reticent,  saying 
they  were  only  going  to  see  some  relatives,  at  Locust  Gap, 
which  possibly  was  the  cause  of  their  trip,  work  being  dull 
at  their  homes.  The  new-comers  were  introduced  to  the 
principal  men  of  Shenandoah  Division,  and,  after  a pleasant 
time  in  the  city,  in  the  afternoon  took  cars  for  their  point 
of  destination. 

The  operative  slept  soundly  through  another  night.  But 
his  dreams  were  not  blissful. 

About  this  date,  or  perhaps  a little  earlier,  a schoolmas- 
ter, named  O’Hare,  living  near  Tuscarora,  was  severely 
beaten  by  four  men,  who  might  have  killed  him  had  not 
some  stout  German  girls,  his  pupils,  driven  them  off  and 
held  the  door  against  their  return,  thus  allowing  the  victim 
to  make  his  escape  to  the  high-road — O’Hare’s  crime  con- 
sisting in  being  inimical  to  the  Mollies  and  refusing  to  obey 
their  notice  to  leave  the  region.  He  had  in  some  way 
offended  one  John  J.  Slattery,  a Bodymaster.  A few  nights 
after  the  day  assault  at  the  school-house,  a band  of  the  same 
order,  headed,  as  was  reported,  by  “ Yellow  Jack  ” Donahue, 
Bodymaster,  went  to  O’Hare’s  residence,  while  he  slept,  set 
fire  to  the  building  and  barn,  burning  both  to  the  ground, 
O’Hare  barely  escaping  with  his  life.  He  was  left  penni- 
less, excepting  the  small  sum  due  him  as  salary  from  the 

* school  board.  This  was  another  straw,  showing  the  direc- 

I tion  of  the  wind.  Evidently  disorder  was  on  the  increase  in 

I * the  neighborhood. 

* . . . . 

[1  A little  later,  one  O’Brien,  a Mollie,  beat  his  butty,  an 

Englishman  named  Clements,  in  so  cruel  a style  that  his 
life  was  put  in  jeopardy. 


2I6  a fright,  a fight,  and  a funeral. 


To  strengthen  the  organization,  and  make  it,  if  possible, 
more  malignant.  Muff  Lawler  had  his  nephew,  PM.  Lawler, 
come  home  from  Luzerne  County,  the  old  trouble  with 
Brophy  having  been  amicably  arranged. 

At  the  same  time,  to  gain  outward  color  of  reformation, 
another  meeting  of  the  Bodymasters  of  the  county  was  con- 
vened at  Girardville.  Muff  Lawler,  Tom  Hurley,  and  John 
Gibbons  were  brought  to  trial,  and,  after  discussion,  cut  off 
from  the  order  during  life  ; Lawler,  for  allowing  a man  to  be 
robbed  in  his  house.  Hurley,  for  committing  the  crime,  and 
Gibbons  upon  general  principles,  his  particular  offense  not 
having  been  recorded.  Dennis,  alias  “ Bucky  ” Donnelly, 
was  also  expelled  for  exhibiting  cowardice  at  the  Connor’s 
Patch  affray,  the  second  of  the  month,  with  the  Sheet  Irons, 
and  for  another  offense — showing  outside  the  division  a 
letter  which  should  only  have  been  seen  within  the  confines 
of  the  order.  No  other  business  of  importance  was  trans- 
acted, the  convocation  dissolved,  and  the  day  terminated  in 
a free  fight,  lasting  twenty  minutes,  during  which  pistols  and 
knives  were  resorted  to,  but  without  deadly  effect.  The 
reformatory  measures  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  as  it  appeared, 
met  strenuous  opposition  from  certain  quarters. 

Later  still,  the  month  saw  a row  at  Raven  Run,  when  a 
Mollie  by  the  name  of  Barnett  received  two  bullets  in  his 
body,  and  Phil.  Nash  one  through  the  left  wrist,  as  he 
informed  the  detective,  laying  bare  the  wound.  He  said  he 
took  the  pistol  from  a man  in  the  opposing  crowd  of  Sheet 
Irons,  broke  the  weapon,  and  played  havoc  generally.  After 
being  shot,  he  employed  his  own  pocket-knife  to  cut  out  the 
ball,  which  job  he  successfully  accomplished.  Barnett  was 
dangerously  injured,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  he  would  survive. 

On  the  seventh  of  September,  1874,  the  resumption  of  the 
collieries  had,  for  a time,  a pacifying  effect  upon  the  irrepres- 
sibles of  the  coal  country,  and  quiet  seemed  about  restored. 
But  Shenandoah  Division  grew  in  strength  and  numbers 


A FRIGHT^  A FIGHT^  AND  A FUNERAL. 


217 


meanwhile.  At  a meeting  held  on  the  fifth  of  the  month, 
Andrew  Murphy,  of  Loss  Creek,  John  Dean,  John  Carey,  and 
John  Walsh  were  accepted  and  duly  initiated.  A brother  of— 
the  Bodymaster  was  rejected,  at  the  suggestion  of  McAndrevv 
in  person,  as  he  urged  that  the  man  proposed  was  continually 
in  trouble  and  would  surely  bring  disgrace  upon  the  honor- 
able brotherhood. 

During  the  latter  part  of  September  occurred  the  decease 
of  old  Mr.  Raines,  a cri[>pled  miner,  who  for  several  years, 
through  rheumatism  and  hurts  received  under  a falling 
pillar,  had  been  unable  to  perform  any  labor.  From  the 
same  causes  his  body  and  limbs  were  bent  forward  into  the 
shape  of  an  irregular  crescent.  There  was  to  be  a loud 
wake,  and  McKenna  having  nearly  recovered  his  health  and 
good  spirits — but  being  not  yet  cured  of  his  adopted  habit 
of  drinking — received  an  invitation  to  be  present.  He  was 
ready  for  a spree,  or  anything  else,  and  went.  The  Raines 
place  was  near  the  Rappahannock  works,  on  the  road  from 
Loss  Creek  to  Girardville,  where  were  situated  a number  of 
“ patches  ” belonging  to  different  collieries.  The  family 
was  large,  its  range  of  acquaintance  extended,  and  over  a 
hundred  men  and  women  gathered  to  do  honor,  in  their 
usual  way,  to  the  departed.  The  corpse  was  laid  out  in  the 
largest  and  best  room  of  the  house,  with  candles  at  its  head 
and  feet.  There  was  a dilapidated  table  in  the  center  of  the 
apartment,  which  for  many  seasons  had  seen  service  in  par- 
lor, dining-room,  and  kitchen,  and  now  supported  pipes, 
tobacco,  and  two  bottles  of  liquor,  with  a generous  supply 
of  lucifer  matches.  At  one  end  of  the  room  was  a cook- 
stove,  but  as  the  weather  was  yet  genial,  no  fire  shone 
through  its  door.  Benches  and  blocks  of  wood  served  as 
seats  for  the  men  and  women,  who  were  ranged  about  the 
walls  and  table,  the  majority  of  the  men  wearing  their  hats, 
and  the  ladies,  with  lace  caps  or  without  them,  as  accorded 
with  their  respective  ages  and  circumstances  in  life.  An 
10 


2i8 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL, 


old-fashioned  pendulum  clock,  with  weights,  and  a face  as 
smoky  as  the  surrounding  walls,  hung  against  the  plastering 
at  the  other  side  of  the  place  ; there  were  a few  pictures  ; 
and  the  last  almanac  issued  by  Dr.  Jayne  swung  from  a nail 
under  an  ancient  square-framed  looking-glass,  which  was 
inclining  forward  just  above.  But  the  principal  thing  to 
attract  the  eye  of  the  detective,  when  he  and  his  compan- 
ions— Hurley  and  Monaghan — entered,  was  the  corpse,  to 
honor  which  all  the  people  had  assembled.  The  coffin  could 
not  yet  be  used — and  for  a good  reason — the  body  would 
not  fit  into  it,  but  the  plain,  walnut  case  rested  in  another 
room.  Stretched  out  on  a sheet  spread  over  a rough  board, 
which  was  supported  at  either  end  by  a common  chair, 
reposed  all  that  was  mortal  of  old  Mr.  Raines,  clad  in  shroud 
and  grave-clothes,  and  the  head  resting  on  a pillow.  In 
order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  accruing  from  the  bent 
and  contorted  condition  of  the  body  and  limbs  of  the  de- 
ceased, which  would  not  assume  a straight  position,  even  in 
death,  a light  panel  door,  taken  from  an  unoccupied  room, 
had  been  put  on  top  of  the  defunct  and  loaded  down  with 
rocks  and  a heavy  piece  of  iron,  the  latter  being,  apparently, 
part  of  a cylinder  to  a disabled  coal-breaker.  This,  it  was 
hoped,  would  relax  the  contracted  muscles,  and  the  curved 
spine  and  limbs,  so  that,  on  the  morrow,  there  would  be  no 
trouble  in  placing  the  corpse  in  its  casket. 

The  remainder  of  the  scene  was  peculiarly  striking  only  to 
those  who  had  never  beheld  its  counterpart. 

The  men  from  Shenandoah,  though  just  as  welcome  as 
others,  were  left,  as  is  the  custom,  to  look  out  for  themselves. 
They  did  not  uncover  their  heads,  but,  squatting  on  their 
heels,  or  any  other  convenient  seat  by  the  wall,  proceeded 
to  smoke  a pipe  with  the  rest.  It  was  not,  and  is  not  to 
this  day,  the  etiquette  of  the  miners  of  this  nationality  to  get 
up  from  their  chairs  and  offer  them  to  strangers,  nor  for 
visitors  to  remove  their  caps,  or  hats,  upon  entering  a neigh- 


There  was  heard  ati  unearthly  yell  ^ as  i\f  horror' 


A FRIGHT,  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL.  2ig 


bor’s  house,  no  more  than  it  is  to  knock  at  the  door — except- 
ing it  be  at  night — before  opening  it. 

McKenna  looked  on  in  silence,  while  the  mourners  pro- 
ceeded with  their  wailing,  crooning  hymns  to  the  dead,  and 
the  men  hel[)ing  themselves  to  lashins  of  poteen,  while  the 
bonneens  stuck  their  faces  in  at  the  door  and  joined  in  the 
keene,  or  caoi?ia-so?ig.  The  eldest  lady  of  the  party  raised 
her  hands  and  cried  out : 

^'‘Forcer!  Foreer  ! Mo-vroite ! Mo-vrone ! Ochone ! Dchone 

Then  the  kee?ie  would  be  raised  to  a higher  pitch,  and  the 
wail  for  the  dead  resumed,  louder  and  more  piercingly 
mournful  than  before. 

This  was  kept  up  until  midnight,  when  an  incident 
occurred  which  bid  fair  to  terminate  this  portion  of  the 
funeral  ceremonies  with  a fight.  One  young  lad,  named 
Flaherty,  a slouchy,  shock -headed  fellow,  as  full  of  mirth 
and  rascality  as  he  well  could  be,  growing  weaiy  of  the 
ordinary  solemnities,  fired  by  having  taken  more  of  the 
liquor  than  was  needful — and  many  more  were  by  that 
time  in  a similar  predicament,  from  the  same  cause — deter- 
mined’ to  vary  the  monotony  somewhat  and  have  some 
sport,  and  made  his  arrangements  accordingly,  as  it  turned 
out,  only  perceived  by  the  agent,  who  placed  no  obstacle  in 
his  way.  All  at  once,  when  the  attention  of  those  present 
was  centered  upon  the  drink  and  the  table  for  tobacco,  etc., 
there  was  heard  an  unearthly  yell,  as  of  horror,  the  weights 
rolled,  with  the  thin,  little  door,  off  the  corpse,  and’  the 
vital  fiame  seemed  to  have  returned  to  the  dead,  as  old  Mr. 
Raines  started  up,  whirled  quickly  and  mechanically  about, 
and  fell  headlong  to  the  floor. 

Such  a mixture  .of  swearing,  groaning,  shrieking,  praying, 
screaming,  and  screeching  was  never  before  heard  in  that 
neighborhood,  and  in  the  space  of  a minute  the  room  was 


220 


A FRIGHT^  A FIGHT,  AND  A FUNERAL. 


nearly  vacated,  McKenna,  the  corpse,  the  candles,  and 
furniture  being  left  sole  i)Ossessors  of  the  field.  Some  of 
the  demoralized  friends  of  the  deceased  did  not  pause  before 
reaching  their  own  homes,  and  many  not  until  well  outside 
the  house,  while  a few  of  the  more  courageous  rallied  in  the 
kitchen.  Flaherty,  whose  actions  the  ojierative  had  watched 
attentively,  was  among  the  first  to  stick  his  freckled  face  in 
at  the  door  and  inquire  if  “ anybody  were  kilt.”  He  found 
McKenna  trying  to  lift  up  the  corpse,  rearrange  its  disturbed 
funereal  costume,  and  replace  it  on  the  board. 

“ Come  here,  ye  gor soon-bo,  an’  lend  a hand  to  hoist  the 
old  man  back  to  his  restin’ -place  ! ” 

The  lad  at  first  refusing,  the  detective  had  but  to  hint 
that  the  piece  of  cord,  with  which  Flaherty  had  cunningly 
pulled  away  the  door,  still  remained  attached  to  a hinge, 
and  if  he  did  not  carry  it  off,  his  trick  would  be  exposed,  to 
bring  the  young  man  in  to  his  assistance. 

“ Lay  holt  wid  me,  and  I’ll  say  nothing  about  the  string! 
Refuse,  and  you’ll  suffer  1 D’ye  think  I didn’t  hear  ye 
scrame  like  a young  locomotive  ? ” 

“Sure,  an’  I only  meant  to  have  a bit  of  fun  I ” explained 
Flaherty ; but  he  entered  and  helped  to  replace  things. 
When  all  was  as  before — and  it  took  but  a few  minutes — 
Flaherty  called  out  to  the  crowd  : 

“ Come  back  I Come  back  I Daddy  Raines  is  all 
right ! ” 

Then  the  men  and  women  who  had  not  gone  home 
returned,  their  eyes  sticking  out,  and  each  person  treading 
on  tip-toe,  perhaps  expecting  to  see  a banshee,  the  gentleman 
in  black — or  his  counterpart  in  hoof,  tail,  and  horns,  with  nos- 
trils breathing  fire  and  smoke — and  were  much  amazed  to 
behold  everything  exactly  as  arranged  before  the  sudden 
rising  of  the  dead  ; the  candles  burning,  the  table  undisturbed, 
and  old  Mr.  Raines  just  as  quiet  and  decent  a corpse  as 
any  of  them  had  ever  helped  to  wake ; while  McKenna  sat 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


silent  on  his  billet,  at  the  side,  smoking  his  pipe  as  calml) 
if  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  course  had  transpired. 

Young  Flaherty  kei)t  the  secret,  through  fear  of  the  con- 
sequences should  he  reveal  his  share  in  the  ghastly  joke,  and 
the  agent  did  not  care  to  undeceive  the  people.  Hence  the 
strange  occurrence  was  spoken  of  for  some  weeks  thereafter, 
in  the  vicinity,  as  about  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world. 
McKenna  was  highly  complimented  for  his  nerve  by  men 
and  women,  and  Monaghan  himself  said  he  “ believed  that 
nothing  would  ever  scare  that  fellow — excepting  it  might  be 
Auld  Nick  in  person  ! " 


♦ 


CHAPTER  XXL 

CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 

Not  long  after  the  wake,  it  was  made  evident  to  some  of 
the  members  of  Shenandoah  Division  that  Frank  McAndrew 
was  not  fitted  by  nature  or  education  for  the  important  office 
of  Bodymaster,  being  far  too  generous,  too  much  inclined  to 
leniency — in  fact,  not  half  bloodthirsty  enough.  Among  those 
who  saw  this  more  plainly  than  others  were  McHugh,  at 
whose  house,  in  those  days,  the  Mollies  held  their  meetings, 
Tom  Hurley,  John  Gibbons,  and  Fergus,  a/ias  Ferguson. 
McKenna  said  little  on  the  subject,  but  while  lying,  appa- 
rently tippled  to  a state  of  insensibility,  in  Cleary’s,  late  one 
night,  he  heard  sufficient  to  convince  him  of  the  existence  of 
a plot,  at  the  bottom  of  which  stood  Jack  Kehoe,  to  replace 
McAndrew  with  a person  that  they  were  pleased  to  denomi- 
nate as  of  “ better  material.”  The  officer  in  question,  when 
spoken  to  upon  the  subject,  the  ensuing  day,  said  he  knew 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


well  why  so  much  dissatisfaction  was  growing  up  around 
im.  It  had  its  roots  deep  planted  in  his  own  unwillingness 
to  engage  in  the  schemes  of  murder  and  outrage  that  his 
opponents  evidently  desired  should  be  immediately  executed. 
McHugh  was  especially  loud  in  denouncing  him  for  failing  to 
have  Corner  James  killed,  as  he  also  had  been  of  similar  in- 
action under  the  leadership  of  Mike  Lawler,  when  that  party 
was  equally  opposed  to  the  same  job  under  like  circumstan- 
ces. So  far  had  McHugh  committed  himself  in  this  direc- 
tion, that  he  made  no  secret  of  demanding  Me  Andrew’s 
expulsion  from  the  organization.  McAndrew’s  argument, 
beyond  its  claim  to  compatibility  with  the  impulses  of  hu- 
manity, was  perfectly  sensible,  as  well  as  unanswerable,  and 
when  brought  out  in  the  course  of  conversation,  caused  most 
of  the  decent  and  orderly  persons  in  the  division  to  coincide 
with  him.  His  logic  was  that,  when  Cosgrove  had  been 
murdered  by  Comer  James,  Mike  I^awler,  then  Bodymaster, 
acted  promptly — but  without  choosing  to  trumpet  it  over  the 
county,  keeping  the  thing  to  himself — and,  among  others, 
appointed  an  own  cousin  of  Cosgrove  as  one  of  the  avengers. 
That  nigh  relative  of  the  man  for  whose  death  retaliation 
was  to  be  sought  refused  to  act,  and  Lawler  at  once,  and 
very  properly,  excused  all  the  rest.  McAndrew  thought  it 
rather  late  in  the  day  for  utter  strangers  to  dig  up  the  hatchet, 
unless  there  .was  a money  reward  offered  by  some  one  for 
the  knocking  of  Comer  James  into  eternity.  Of  that  he 
was  not  so  sure.  If  something  of  the  sort  was  not  in  the 
wind,  why  were  such  men  as  Hurley,  Cibbons,  and  McHugh 
so  exceedingly  anxious  ? 

To  this  query  my  agent  in  the  coal  regions  could  return 
no  response.  Nevertheless,  nothing  was  done,  though  much 
was  said,  regarding  the  taking  off  of  the  young  Welshman. 
How  quickly  action  might  be  taken  he  possessed  no  means 
of  judging.  But  that  Hurley  and  his  backers  would,  sooner 
or  later,  seek  to  kill  Comer  James,  if  he  continued  to  live  in 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


223 


the  vicinity,  he  harbored  no  reasonable  doubt.  Upon  the 
reception  of  this  suggestive  conclusion  Mr.  Franklin  searched 
for  and  obtained  means  of  warning  Gomer  James,  advising 
him  to  get  speedily  out  of  the  country.  This,  at  first,  James 
firmly  refused  to  do,  but,  subsequently,  securing  paying  work 
in  another  county,  he  did  temporarily  remove.  He  re- 
mained away  only  a little  while,  being  quite  convinced  that, 
if  the  Mollie  Maguires  were  after  and  wanted  his  life,  they 
would  come  up  with  him,  wherever  he  might  be.  At  the 
date  of  the  latest  talk  by  McHugh,  James  was  engaged  as  a 
night  watchman  in  one  of  the  collieries,  and,  as  far  as  could 
be  learned,  performed  his  duty  honorably  and  faithfully. 

McAndrew  maintained  his  ground,  saying  that  he  knew  he 
would  be  sustained  by  the  State  and  National  Boards,  what- 
ever the  new  County  Delegate  might  say  or  do  in  the  prem- 
ises. This  pleased  McKenna,  who  wisely  refrained  from 
joining  either  party  engaged  in  the  controversy,  merely  put- 
ting in  a word,  to  one  or  the  other,  when  compelled  to  do 
so,  to  the  effect  that  everybody  knew  him  as  a bad  man,  and 
it  was  best  that  he  keep  his  mouth  closed  on  subjects  which 
might,  in  time,  come  to  him,  whether  guilty  or  not.  For  his 
part,  he  said  : “ I am  willing  to  do  my  duty  by  the  division, 
for  the  protection  it  affords  me  from  those  that  I fear  in  an 
adjoining  State,  but  it  is  not  for  such  as  I to  do  much 
talking.” 

So  the  business  of  the  division  was  still  intrusted  to  Mc- 
Andrew, and  the  detective  managed  to  be  sober  long 
enough,  each  month — somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  his  inti- 
mates— to  write  up  the  books  and  carry  on  such  correspond- 
ence as  his  office  demanded.  At  about  all  other  times  he 
was  engaged  in  some  game,  attending  a fair  or  chicken- 
fight,  or  training  some  dog,  which  was  to  “ whip  out  all 
creation  ” when  ready  for  the  ring.  He  followed  other  occu- 
pations. If  a man  was  needed  to  doctor  a sick  horse,  mule, 
or  cow,  in  the  borough — or  out  of  it — who  should  be  sent 


224 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


for  but  handy  Jim  McKenna  ? Should  a man  have  his  hand 
hurt  in  the  mines,  who  bound  up  his  wound  and  nursed  him 
tenderly  until  recovered  ? Why,  the  self-same  vagabond, 
red-headed  Jim  McKenna.  If  a henroost  was  to  be  robbed  by 
Mollies,  ducks  or  geese  stolen,  and  thereafter  surreptitiously 
roasted,  Jim  McKenna  was  invited  to  take  a hand.  And 
sometimes  he  was  found  sober  enough  to  give  the  latter 
freaks  attention,  but  not  often. 

If  a young  lady  wanted  to  send  a billet-doux  to  her  sweet- 
heart in  a far-off  country,  she  knew  that,  by  the  simple  call- 
ing, she  might  have  the  help  of  “ the  handiest  man  at  the 
])en  in  all  Schuylkill  County,”  and  that,  in  the  general  opin- 
ion, was  Jim  McKenna.  As  a matter  of  natural  conse- 
quence Jim”  was,  with  maids  and  mothers,  boys  and  girls, 
fathers  and  sons — of  the  rougher  sort — a great  favorite. 
There  was  nothing  under  the  sun  to  be  done,  scientific  or 
culinary,  agricultural,  surgical,  artistic,  or  mechanical,  that 
‘‘Jim,”  in  the  opinion  of  his  countrymen,  could  not  do — 
certainly  very  little  he  would  not  attempt,  merely  to  oblige 
those  who  needed  him.  To  a-  certain  class  his  name  was 
synonymous  with  fun,  frolic,  dance,  and  song,  and  his  face  • 
indicative  of  good  nature  and  genuine  Irish  humor.  To 
others,  he  was  terror  personified.  Some  of  his  best  friends 
said  that  he  might  comb  out  his  hair  somewhat  oftener, 
and  drink  less  whisky,  but  very  generally  these  slight  and 
prevalent  defects  were-overlooked  in  the  benefits  McKenna 
conferred  upon  those  with  whom  he  associated. 

As  before  stated,  there  were  also  those  who  seriously 
believed  that  the  agent  was 'really  an  assassin,  had  mur- 
dered a man  in  Buffalo,  and  was  in  constant  communication 
with  counterfeiters  and  black-legs.  Those  who  knew  these 
things — or  supposed  they  knew  them — did  not  often  speak  of 
them  outside  the  Mollie  ring.  One  fact  could  not  be  gain- 
said : if  there  was  a ball,  a charity,  a dance,  a picnic,  or  a 
man  or  woman  in  real  want,  Jim  McKenna  always  had  a 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


225 


(k)llrir  to  give.  If  there  was  a treat  where  he  chanced  to  be, 
none  put  up  glasses  more  liberally  than  that  same  McKenna. 
These  contradictory  opinions  rather  surprised  the  good  peo- 
ple of  Shenandoah  who  canvassed  the  subject.  How  he 
could  be  such  a favorite  with  the  miners  was  more  than  they 
could  fathom. 

During  the  latter  portion  of  September,  1874,  there  was  a 
grand  fair  at  Ringtown,  and,  as  it  was  stated  that  the  Sheet 
Irons  were  to  be  present  in  great  force,  with  the  express 
intention  of  whipping  out  their  enemies,  the  Mollies,  several 
of  the  latter  determined  to  go,  armed  and  equipped  for  the 
purpose  of  defending  themselves  and  seeing  how  much  their 
adversaries  would  really  accomplish. 

This  fair  was  similar  to  those  called  county  agricultural 
shows  in  the  Western  and  Southern  States,  and  sometimes 
from  one  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred  persons,  men,  women, 
and  children,  would  congregate  daily,  for  five  or  six  days,  on 
these  occasions. 

At  Ringtown  there  were  found  people  from  Shenandoah, 
and  other  parts  of  Schuylkill,  and  from  many  towns  in 
Columbia  County.  There  were  the  usual  attractions,  side- 
shows, ugly  dwarfs,  scrawny  giants,  slimy  anacondas,  and  a 
fine  display  of  fat  bullocks,  sleek  cows  and  sheep,  thoroaigh- 
bred  horses  and  mules,  improved  pigs,  geese,  ducks,  and 
chickens,  and  the  ordinarv  collection  of  insrenious  and  use- 
ful  machines  for  manufacturing  and  home  uses.  There  were 
foot-races ; races  in  sacks  ; games  of  catching  the  greased 
pig;  climbing  the  greased  pole  ; lady  equestrianisms,  and  all 
the  gayeties  that  attend  exhibitions  of  the  sort.  All  were 
taken  in  by  the  Mollies  from  Shenandoah,  as  well  as  by  those 
from  Catawissa,  Centralia,  and  the  entire  Mahanoy  Valley. 
There  was  music  and  dancing  and  drink  galore  at  night ; 
and  a full  brass  band,  hailing  from  an  adjacent  city,  dis- 
coursed “ concord  of  sweet  sounds  ” at  the  grand  stand 
10* 


226 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE.] 


during  each  day’s  regular  performances.  And  the  song 
seemed  to  be  : 


“The  butcher,  fhe  baker, 

The  candle-stick  maker, 

All,  all  are  gone  to  the  fair.” 

McKenna’s  friends  flattered  him  by  saying  that  he  was 
the  wickedest  and  toughest,  as  well  as  the  roughest-looking 
vagabond  seen  at  the  county  fair.  But  the  crowd  in  his 
company  was  not  by  any  means  conspicuous  for  good  be- 
havior or  lamb-like  undertakings. 

After  one  day’s  experience  at  Ringtown,  finding  that  no 
Sheet  Irons  made  their  appearance,  the  greater  portion  -of 
the  Shenandoah  collection  of  ‘Mollies  were  disgusted  and 
went  home.  The  detective  thought  he  saw  business,  and 
remained.  He  had  to  sleep  in  the  fair  enclosure,  however, 
as,  at  the  hotels,  he  was  invariably,  from  his  bad  name  and 
appearance,  refused  admission.  One  tavern-keeper  named 
Fencermacher,  shoAved  him  out,  saying  : 

“I  keeps  no  dramps  and  such-like  caddie  in  mine  blace  ! 
Geh  zii  hause  I ” 

He  may  here  learn,  for  the  first  time,  who  it  was  that  he 
turned  away.  But  the  German  was  perfectly  excusable. 
The  applicant  for  lodgings  seemed  rough  enough  to  prompt 
any  respectable  landlord  to  pursue  the  same  course.  It 
was  sufficient  to  know  that  “Jim  McKenna”  was  the  inquirer 
for  accommodations  to  cause  any  well-regulated  hotel  door 
to  close  with  a bang  against  his  face,  almost  ot  its  own 
accord. 

During  his  recent  sickness  the  operative  lost  his  hair — a 
little  circumstance  that  has  not  been  alluded  to — and  had 
been  supplied  with  a wig  of  about  the  color  of  his  former 
natural  growth,  which,  as  he  was  not  a barber,  seldom  re- 
ceived proper  dressing,  and  gave  its  wearer  a very  uncouth 
and  shabby  appearance.  But  it  seemed  not  quite  as  bad  as 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


227 


going  around  completely  bareheaded,  especially  in  chilly 
weather.  His  beard  and  mustache  were  also  very  long  and 
bushy,  and  scarcely  ever  cut  away  ; his  face  was  red  and 
sunburnt,  but  somewhat  thinner  tlian  when  first  reaching 
Pennsylvania.  He  wore  the  clothes  he  had  bought  the  year 
before — saying  to  the  Mollies  that  ull  success  was  making 
him  a little  careful  of  his  expenses — and  a white  shirt  was 
rarely  seen  upon  his  back.  A coat  of  many  colors,  badly 
patched  and  darned,  soft  hat — new  when  he  first  fought 
Muff  Lawler’s  chickens  for  him — and  a pair  of  heavy  miner’s 
boots,  completed  an  inventory  of  his  visible  personal  effects 
— excepting  the  two  loaded  revolvers  which  he  constantly 
wore  at  his  back.  He  could  hardly  be  deemed  a likely 
customer  to  take  into  a decent  tavern  ; but  he  was  not  as 
bad  as  he  looked.  His  deeds  were  not  criminal,  however 
unseemly  he  appeared,  and  his  duty  was  ever  uppermost  in 
his  thoughts. 

McKenna  was  constrained  to  sleep  the  little  he  did  sleep, 
when  first  in  attendance  at  the  fair,  upon  the  bare  ground. 
During  part  of  one  day,  however,  he  superintended  the  bar 
for  a respectable  Irish  lady,  Mrs.  Corcoran  by  name,  and 
that  night  she  left  him  to  occupy  the  booth,  while  she  went 
home,  showing  that  this  woman,  at  least,  reposed  confidence 
in  him,  despite  his  generally  accepted  bad  character. 

He  participated  in  only  two  fights  while  at  Ringtown. 
The  first  of  these  occurred  on  the  third  day  of  the  fair,  when 
a Dutch  constable,  from  Dark  Corner,  had  trouble  with  a 
man  named  McBain,  and  the  operative  entered  the  row  in 
the  interest  of  peace.  The  official  gazed  at  McKenna  with 
astonishment  and  said  : 

“ Look  here  ! you  seem  like  what  you  are — a d d 

thief!” 

This  was  too  much  to  be  taken  quietly,  and  the  detective 
quickly  knocked  the  representative  of  public  justice  down 
with  a blow  from  the  fist,  and  then  administered  to  his  body 


228 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


a good  kicking  with  his  rough  boots,  which  settled  the  pre- 
vailing question  in  his  favor.  The  constable  cried  “ enough,” 
and  was  allowed  to  escape  without  further  punishment. 

The  second  affray  came  very  near  resulting  seriously,  and 
was  a consequence  of  the  first.  At  about  nine  a.m.  of  the 
last  day  of  the  show,  the  defeated  constable  returned  to  the 
fair  grounds,  in  company  with  six  or  seven  other  men,  of 
about  the  same  ugly  appearance.  McKenna  was  at  that  time 
attending  a booth  for  one  Whalen,  who  was  absent.  They 
came  up  exhibiting  knives  and  other  weapons,  and  swearing 
they  would  kill  the  man  who  had  beaten  their  friend.  The 
detective  had  been  deserted  by  the  Mollies,  knew  not  which 
way  to  turn  for  support,  and  so  determined  to  help  himself. 
Rushing  out  of  the  stand,  he  seized  a small  wooden  bench, 
which  was  kept  for  the  convenience  of  customers,  and  swing- 
ing it  wildly  about  his  head,  hit  the  first  Dutchman,  who 
fell ; he  struck  the  rest  in  rapid  succession,  and  soon  four 
were  knocked  over  before  they  could  use  their  weapons. 
The  others  tied,  leaving  him,  for  the  moment,  master  of  the 
situation.  Then,  knowing  that  they  would  still  make  good 
their  threats,  if  he  waited  for  their  courage  to  muster,  he  ran, 
jumped  into  a passing  wagon  loaded  with  country  people, 
and  was  driven  rapidly  away. 

After  that,  whenever  McKenna  wanted  anything  in  Ring- 
town,  there  were  plenty  who  would  run  to  his  assistance. 

In  this  way  he  added  to  his  reputation — or  kept  it  up — as 
the  wildest  Irishman  of  the  mountains,  and  the  most  unprin- 
cipled Mollie  in  the  whole  country. 

When  he  got  back  to  Shenandoah  and  visited  the  post- 
office  for  letters,  McKenna  found,  to  his  extreme  satisfac- 
tion and  relief,  that  he  had  a missive  from  the  Philadelphia 
Agency.  As  he  handed  it  to  him,  the  clerk  remarked, 
exhibiting  a second  missive  enclosed  in  the  same  kind  of  an 
envelope,  apparently  superscribed  by  the  same  hand,  but 
addressed  to  “James  McParlan,  Shenandoah.” 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


229 


^ “ Here  is  a letter  I hardly  know  what  to  do  with  ; but  it 
is  not  for  you  ! It  has  been  here  several  days,  and  is  still 
uncalled  for.  Perhaps  you  know  something  about  it,  as  I 
see  it  seems,  from  the  hand-writing  and  post-mark,  to  have 
come  from  the  party  that  has  been  writing  you  ! ” 

The  clerk  looked  at  the  uncouth  young  man  very  criti- 
cally, and,  as  he  imagined,  very  suspiciously. 

I'he  operative  “ thought  of  ten  thousand  things  at  once,” 
as  he  described  his  sensations  to  me  afterward,  but  Irish 
wit  and  readiness  for  reply  did  not  desert  him  in  the  emer- 
gency. 

“Yes,”  said  McKenna,  with  all  the  assurance  imaginable, 
and  without  a second’s  hesitation.  “ I do  remember,  now 
you  spake  of  it,  but  the  thing  had  before  gone  clane  out  of 
me  head  ! Jim  McParlan  ? Why,  sure,  an’  he’s  a crony  of 
mine,  over  at  Wilkesbarre,  beyant,  an’  faith,  when  I wor 
there  last  month,  he  said  that  I should  inquire  here  for  a 
letther  for  him,  as  he  expected  at  wan  time  to  come  over 
an’  work  wid  Frank  McAndrew  as  his  butty,  but  got  a better 
chance  in  Luzerne  ! Bad  ’cess  to  me  memory  ! I think 
there’s  somethin’  in  the  whisky  they  hev  in  Shenandoah 
that  sinds  me  wits  all  a wool-gatherin’  ! But  never  mind  ! 
Wid  your  permission.  I’ll  jist  forward  the  letther  to  Jim,  and 
write  an’  tell  him  how  it  have  been  so  delayed  ! ” 

The  suspicions  of  the  clerk  were  dissipated  in  a mo- 
ment, and  he  readily  gave  the  document  into  McKenna’s 
hand.  Had  the  recipient  exhibited  the  least  confusion 
or  embarrassment,  the  probabilities  were  that  his  letter — 
unhappily  misdirected  by  a new  clerk  in  Philadelphia — • 
must  have  gone  to  the  Dead  Letter  Office,  in  Washing- 
ton, where  it  would  have  been  opened  and  returned  to 
Philadelphia.  In  the  meantime  both  Mr.  Franklin  and 
McKenna  would  have  felt  much  disturbed  by  its  loss.  The 
operative  realized  the  mistake  in  its  full  extent,  and  sat 
down  and  wrote  a line  asking  that,  so  long  as  he  remained 


230 


CONTEST  WITH  A CONSTABLE. 


in  the  coal  country,  such  accidents  might  be  carefully 
guarded  against ; and  his  wishes  were  obeyed. 

The  strike  of  the  miners  against  the  rates  paid  for  labor, 
for  1874,  began  in  October,  with  the  usual  result,  the  first  to 
kick  being  the  men  in  Luzerne  County.  This  was  not  a 
Mollie  movement,  and  its  ringleaders  were  jiromptly  arrested 
by  Sheriff  Whittaker.  But  the  end  was  not  yet. 

At  about  the  same  date  Kehoe  received  a scorching  let- 
ter from  Capt.  Gallagher,  the  State  Secretary,  saying  the 
chances  were  that,  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  State  organi- 
zation, the  Mollies  of  Schuylkill  County  might  be  severed 
from  the  body,  as  a punishment  for  their  past  misdemeanors, 
and  Bishop  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  would  also  officially  ex- 
communicate them  by  name  from  the  Church.  He  suggested 
that  a meeting  of  Bodymasters  might  be  held  at  Pottsville, 
at  an  early  day,  and  the  bad  men  of  the  order,  who  were 
probably  known,  all  summarily  expelled,  when  possibly  the 
remainder  could  be  saved.  If  the  body  was  purified  the 
good  members  might  not  lose  caste.  Here  was  a muddle  for 
the  emissary.  He  was  sure  to  be  among  the  first  men  cut 
off,  and,  should  the  movement  succeed,  his  career  of  useful- 
ness in  the  neighborhood  would  be  very  short  thereafter.  It 
should  not  be  ! Whatever  was  done,  he  must  retain  his  po- 
sition. Happily  for  him.  Jack  Kehoe  simply  laughed  at  the 
recommendation,  and  remarked  that  Mr.  Gallagher  might 
attend  to  his  own  business,  as  he  would  call  no  such  meet- 
ing. So  no  convention  was  held,  and  the  Mollies  were  still 
triumphant.  It  was  not  for  Kehoe’s  interest  that  they  should 
be  as  mild  as  lambs.  In  reality,  the  worse  they  were  the 
better  King  Jack  would  be  suited. 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS, 


231 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 

The  strike  was  yet  in  progress,  in  November,  1874, 
the  consequent  want  of  work  produced  the  very  result  an- 
ticipated— the  Mollies  were  as  active  as  a community  of 
hornets  whose  nest  a schoolboy  has  invaded  with  a club. 
There  followed  a number  of  sanguinary  encounters,  some  of 
which  terminated  fatally.  One  of  these,  the  shooting  and 
subsequent  death  of  Mr.  George  Major,  Chief  Burgess  of 
Mahanoy  City,  transpired  on  Saturday,  the  31st  of  October, 
in  the  year  mentioned.  McKenna  was  in  Shenandoah  at 
the  time,  but  received  early  intelligence  of  the  event,  Mc- 
Andrew,  feeling  very  anxious  to  learn  the  full  particulars,  it 
was  an  easy  matter  to  induce  him  to  detail  the  operative  and 
Chas.  Hayes  to  go  to  the  scene  of  the  encounter  and  gather 
them.  This  they  were  willing  to  undertake,  starting  out 
from  Shenandoah  on  the  second  of  November. 

The  request  of  the  Rodymaster  formed  a good  excuse  for 
McKenna,  who  had  early  been  directed  by  Mr.  Franklin  to 
investigate  the  murder,  to  go  to  Mahanoy  City.  Without 
McAndrew’s  order,  suspicion  as  to  his  calling  might  have 
been  created  among  the  Mollies  of  his  division.  It  was  all 
very  proper,  when  the  Secretary  was  known  to  have  plenty 
of  money,  and  little  else  to  do,  for  him  to  chance  around  at 
localities  where  murders  and  other  crimes  had  been  perpe- 
trated, but  at  this  particular  time  he  was  putting  on  a sorry 
face,  declaring  that  his  income  from  rents  had  run  several 
months  behind,  the  county  officers  suspecting  him  of 
leaguing  with  counterfeiters — hence  he  could  not  safely  get 
rid  of  his  bogus  currency — and,  in  fact,  dressing  very  badly. 


232 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


SO  that  he  would  not  be  expected  to  have  funds  to  expend 
in  too  many  treats  for  his  guzzling  and  expensive  companions. 
Furnished  with  a safe  cover,  from  which  to  carry  on  his  ob- 
servations, he  at  once  commenced  hunting  up  the  facts  con- 
nected with  the  shooting  of  Major. 

The  Chief  Burgess,  as  that  official — usually  the  Mayor  of 
a town — is  called  in  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  was  not  yet 
dead,  but  could  hardly  be  expected  to  live  more  than  a day 
or  two  with  a bullet  resting  in  a vital  part.  Major  had  been 
shot  through  the  left  breast,  two  inches  above  the  heart. 

McKenna  went  to  Clark's  house,  the  known  rendezvous 
of  the  Mollies,  of  which  I shall  have  more  to  say  hereafter, 
and,  finding  the  proprietor  alone,  started  a conversation  with 
him.  Clark  was  an  old  man,  and  not  a member  of  the  order, 
but  his  two  sons  were  Mollies. 

“ An’  how  is  it  about  the  bit  o’  scrimmage  ye  had  over 
here  last  Saturday  ? ” commenced  the  operative. 

“ Oh  ! it’s  a bad  atfair  altogether  ! ” answered  the  landlord 
of  the  Emerald  House. 

“ Who  fired  the  shot  that  brought  the  Chief  Burgess 
down  ? ” 

“ That  I can’t,  fur  the  life  of  me,  tell ! There’s  two 
stories  about  it ; wan  of  them  puts  it  on  Dan  Dougherty — 
but  I belave  him  jist  as  innocent  as  the  babe  unborn — an’ 
the  other  charges  it  on  Major’s  own  brother,  William,  hitlin’ 
him  be  mischance,  when  firing  afther  the  Hibernian  com- 
pany’s boys — for  ye  must  know  that  the  whole  trouble  came 
about  thro’  a quarrel  between  the  Hibernian  an’  the  Citizen 
fire  companies.  Wan  is  wholly  made  up  of  our  countrymen, 
an’  the  other  of  Modocs — English,  German,  Welsh  an’  what- 
not ! I suppose  ye  know  that  ? ” 

“Yes  ! But  who  started  the  row  ? ” 

“ I am  sure,  from  what  I can  learn,  that  Dougherty  didn’t ! 
He  never  has  a pistol  about  him  ! There  was  a bit  o’ fire,  on 
the  night,  as  ye  must  know,  an’  both  companies  was  out,  an’ 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


233 


we  had  considerable  excitement,  an'  not  a little  whisky. 
Afther  the  fire,  in  coinin’  home,  over  the  strate,  the  firemen 
got  in  a jangle,  an’  blows  were  being  passed,  when  the  Chief 
Burgess,  Geo.  Major,  came  out,  flourished  his  revolver,  and, 
during  the  confusion,  shot  a dog  that  was  barkin’  near  by. 
This  led  to  more  shootin’,  an’  some  one  in  the  crowd  took  off 
the  Chief  Burgess,  an’  Major’s  brother  shot  Dougherty,  who 
has  a bullet  in  the  neck,  below  the  left  ear ! Oh  ! it’s  a 
bad  business  ! A bad  business  ! Do  you  know,  I am  think- 
in’  no  good  can  iver  come  of  it  ? ” 

“ Yes,  a shockin’  bad  thing  ! ” assented  McKenna. 

Finding  that  Clark  really  knew  very  little  about  the 
minutiae,  the  operative,  who  had  purposely  separated  from 
Hayes,  went  to  see  other  friends,  hoping  to  find  some  one 
who  might  be  able  to  give  him  information. 

Meeting  Clark’s  brother,  who  was  a Mollie,  he  accom- 
panied him  to  Dougherty’s  house,  which  was  only  guarded 
by  an  old  constable,  named  Litchenberger,  who  was  too 
tipsy  to  do  either  good  or  harm.  Several  men  were  standing 
around,  but  the  excitement  seemed  quietly  subsiding,  and 
there  was  little  trouble  in  gaining  permission  to  see  tlie 
wounded  man.  They  ascended  to  his  room.  The  injured 
Mollie  was  slightly  touched  in  the  brain,  and  barely  recog- 
nized his  friends,  but,  turning  over  in  bed,  exhibited  his  hurt, 
which  appeared  to  have  been  produced  by  a heavy,  large- 
sized bullet.  His  left  cheek  and  eye  were  greatly  discolored 
and  puffed  up,  the  side  of  the  neck  being  quite  black.  The 
ball  still  rested  in  the  muscle,  the  surgeons  thinking  it  unsafe, 
at  that  time,  to  probe  for  or  attempt  its  removal.  The  visi- 
tors remained  with  Dougherty  but  a few  moments,  and  then 
[repaired  to  McCann’s  boarding-house,  the  landlady  of  which, 
at  first,  said  the  man  inquired  for  had  gone  out,  she  did  not 
know  where ; but,  when  the  operative  and  Clark  made 
themselves  known  by  name,  she  changed  her  tune  and 
jcordially  invited  them  upstairs.  The  person  visited  they 


234 


UPON  HORRORS. 


found  in  bed,  but  not  at  all  averse  to  conversation.  This 
was  satisfactory  to  the  detective.  McCann  said  there  had 
been  no  disturbance  whatever  in  the  street  when  Chief 
Burgess,  Major,  fired  the  shot  at  him,  and,  before  he,  Mc- 
Cann, could  catch  the  revolver  and  take  it  from  him,  he 
discharged  three  shots. 

Hayes,  who  had  joined  the  others,  was  anxious  that  James 
McCann  should  swear  out  a warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Major, 
before  he  would  die,  charging  him  with  an  assault  with  a 
deadly  weapon.  That,  he  contended,  would  place  McCann 
on  the  witness-stand  and  prevent  him  from  being  brought  to 
the  bar  as  a defendant.  Others  who  were  present  desired 
McCann  to  make  his  escape.  McKenna  did  not  venture 
any  suggestion.  The  general  belief  was  that  Major  would 
die,  and  this  was  all  in  the  case  that  gave  the  Mollies  any 
satisfaction.  They  were  united  in  protesting  that  Dougherty 
must  remain  where  he  was,  saying  that  a removal  to  Potts- 
ville,  in  his  precarious  condition,  would  be  sure  death  for 
him. 

The  Chief  Burgess  succumbed  to  his  wounds  Tuesday, 
November  3,  and  received  burial,  with  suitable  honors,  the 
ensuing  day.  Dougherty  was  still  unable  to  be  removed, 
when  the  operative,  having  obtained  all  the  information  pos- 
sible, returned  with  Hayes  to  Shenandoah,  and  reported  to 
the  division  the  issue  of  his  trip.  He  had  previously  sent 
Mr.  Franklin  daily  bulletins  of  his  inquiries  and  their  results. 

Dougherty  was  subsequently  moved  to  Pottsville,  where 
he  recovered,  had  his  trial,  and  was  acquitted. 

]\Tike  I^awler  now  managed  to  attach  himself  once  more  to 
the  order,  having  been  received  by  Wm.  Callaghan,  Body- 
master,  into  his  division  at  Mahanoy  Plane.  I^awler  still 
maintained  friendly  relations  with  McKenna,  despite  his 
aversion  to  the  Shenandoah  Mollies,  as  a body,  and  one 
day  visited  the  Secretary  in  company  with  Callaglian,  who 
chanced  to  be  in  the  city  on  personal  business.  While  the 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


235 


three  were  together,  walking  leisurely  over  the  mountain, 
Muff  related,  with  much  particularity,  a circumstance  occur- 
ring some  eighteen  months  before.  Two  Mollies  named 
Doyle,  brothers,  residing  at  Jackson’s  Patch,  had  recently 
been  attacked  and  beaten  by  Sheet  Irons.  The  Mollies  had 
a meeting  among  themselves  and  deliberately  prepared  a 
scheme  to  wreak  terrible  vengeance  upon  the  whole  commu- 
nity at  the  Patch  in  question.  The  idea  was  to  burn  down 
every  building,  after  midnight,  when  all  the  inhabitants  were 
sleeping,  having  the  torch  applied  almost  simultaneously 
over  the  entire  place.  Afterward  the  Mollies,  well  armed 
with  guns  and  revolvers,  were  to  stand  closely  guarding  the 
blazing  houses,  and  whenever  any — man,  woman,  or  child — 
attempted  to  escape,  deliberately  shoot  him  or  her  down. 
Not  one  was  to  be  spared  to  tell  the  tale.  The  division 
went  so  far,  even,  as  to  appoint  the  night  on  which  this  das- 
tardly outrage  was  to  be  perpetrated.  They  convened  in 
Shenandoah  for  the  business,  but  Lawler — so  he  claimed — 
assisted  by  Callaghan,  managed  to  get  up  a discussion  on 
another  subject,  thus  diverting  the  attention  of  the  ring- 
leaders, and  they  forgot  what  they  had  gathered  for,  adjourn- 
ing at  too  late  an  hour  for  their  purpose,  thus  postponing 
operations  until  a future  time.  Finally  the  job  was  aban- 
doned. Lawler  and  Callaghan  accorded  great  credit  to 
themselves  in  having,  at  the  risk  of  their  own  lives,  saved  the 
unsuspecting  inhabitants  of  Jackson  Patch,  thus  averting 
one  of  the.  most  sickening  wholesale  assassinations  that 
the  heart  of  savage  ever  conceived.  Through  inquiries  in  the 
proper  quarters,  which  the  operative  made,  he  was  satisfied 
that  the  story  he  had  listened  to  was  not  drawn  from  imagi- 
nation. Previously  aware  of  the  fact  that  there  were  men 
in  his  division  who,  to  secure  revenge,  or  when  under  the 
excitement  of  enmity  or  drink,  would  perform  deeds  that 
might  make  angels  weep,  and  throw  the  acts  of  the  Indians 
in  the  shade,  still  he  was  shocked  by  this  recital.  He  must 


236 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


perforce  maintain  friendly  relations  with  these  persons,  drink 
of  their  liquor,  share  their  orgies  and  listen  to  their  blood- 
thirsty plans.  It  was  no  pleasant  duty  to  perform. 

The  strike  continued.  It  was  not  alone  Luzerne  County 
that  was  interested,  but  disaffection  and  desertion  of  works 
spread  over  the  anthracite  region.  It  w^as  the  intention  of 
the  Mollies  and  the  Miners’  and  Laborers’  Association  that 
work  should  entirely  cease.  To  this  end  those  men  who 
desired  to  labor  for  the  support  of  their  families  ’^’^re 
notified.  If  they  failed  to  stop,  they  were  beaten,  .jsas- 
sinated,  and  the  hand  that  consummated  the  deed  was 
hidden  in  the  secret  recesses  of  the  hearts  of  the  Mollie 
Maguires. 

On  the  eighteenth  of  November  McKenna  obtained 
information  that  a number  of  outrages  had  occurred  the 
preceding  Saturday — denominated  by  the  Miners'  Journal^ 
of  Pottsville,  as  “ a horrible  day.” 

In  the  first  instance,  a man  named  Pat  Padden  was  dis- 
covered in  the  streets  of  Carbondale,  dead,  with  two  bullet 
holes  in  his  skull. 

Secondly,  Michael  McNally  was  mysteriously  murdered 
in  the  same  locality,  and  found  with  his  throat  cut  froni  ear 
to  ear,  and  body  otherwise  mutilated. 

In  another  part  of  the  county,  a man,  whose  name  was 
not  learned,  had  been  come  upon  by  some  farmers,  nearly 
dead,  in  a most  novel  but  painful  predicament.  It  seems 
he  had  refused  to  give  heed  to  the  notices  the  Mollies  gave 
him  ; was  one  night  taken  from  his  home,  carried  to  the 
mountains,  and  thence  to  a deep  morass,  where  there  was 
nothing,  surrounding  them  but  water,  high  trees  with 
branches  closely  interlocked,  and  fallen  timber.  There  the 
inhuman  monsters  prepared  to  leave  him  to  die  a slow  death 
by  starvation.  Iron  spikes  were  driven  through  »his  coat 
sleeves,  tight  to  the  wrist,  the  man  lying  upon  his  back 
lengthwise  of  a solid  pine  log,  the  arms  bent  backward  so 


There  the  inhuman  lor etches  j/repared  to  leave  him  to  die. 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


237 


as  to  form  the  shape  of  a cross  ; then  his  feet  were  similarly 
pinned  to  the  log  with  the  strongest  nails.  Making  sure, 
as  they  supposed,  that  there  was  no  possibility  he  would 
escape,  the  Mollies  deserted  the  place,  first  having  put  a gag 
in  his  mouth,  which  they  thought  he  would  be  unable  to 
remove.  For  nearly  three  days,  and  two  horrid,  long 
nights,  their  victim  remained  thus  secured,  praying,  at  last, 
for  death  to  relieve  him  from  tortures  of  hunger  and  thirst 
and  the  dreaded  attacks  of  stinging  insects  and  fierce  wild 
animals.  Happily  he  at  last  succeeded  in  releasing  the 
fastenings  of  the  gag,  the  block  of  wood  fell  out,  and  he 
made  the  air  resound,  about  noon  of  the  third  day,  with  his 
loud  and  repeated  shouts  for  aid,  which  were  heard  by  two 
German  woodmen,  who  at  once  sought  out  the  cause  of  the 
noise.  They  soon  found  the  man,  at  once  relieved  him, 
and  gave  him,  sparingly  at  first,  food  from  their  well-stored 
lunch  pails.  Water  was  also  procured,  and  in  a few  hours 
the  victim  of  the  xVIollies  found  himself  strong  enough  to  be 
removed.  For  some  weeks  he  was  a raving  maniac  and 
could  not  tell  who  he  was,  where  he  came  from,  or  the  cause 
of  his  punishment.  When  his  senses  returned  he  possessed 
no  knowledge  of  the  parties  who  had  perpetrated  the  out- 
rage. He  emigrated  from  the  coal  mines,  as  soon  as  well 
enough,  and  said  he  “ would  rather  starve  in  a civilized 
community  than  fare  sumptuously  in  a place  inhabited  by 
brutes  in  human  form.” 

Still  another.  A mining  boss,  name  not  heard,  but  con- 
nected with  the  Erie  Breaker,  was  set  upon,  beaten,  and 
left  for  dead,  with  one  of  his  arms  broken. 

And  another.  One  Michael  Kenny,  not  a Mollie  Maguire, 
was  murdered  at  Scranton,  Luzerne  County,  and  his  mangled 
remains  thrown  down  a steep  embankment,  where  it  was 
supposed  they  would  forever  remain  undiscovered,  but  acci- 
i dent  revealed  their  hiding-place.  They  were  encoffined 
and  given  burial.  The  assassins  were  not  known. 


238 


HORRORS  UPON  HORRORS. 


The  men  at  Carbon  were  nearly  all  Irish  and  Welsh,  the 
. former  mostly  Mollies,  and  there  were  no  members  of  the 
Sheet  Irons  supposed  to  be  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  miners  still  refused  any  reduction  from  the  basis  on 
which. they  were  laboring  when  the  strike  was  inaugurated. 
Some  were  working,  but  all  expected  to  suspend  by  the 
beginning  of  the  New  Year. 

An  event  which  made  the  detective’s  very  blood  boil,  and 
still  one  in  which  he  could  not  interfere,  furnishes  the 
cap  sheaf  of  this  array  of  horrors.  It  transpired  at  Fowler’s 
Patch,  east  of  Shenandoah,  a little  later  in  the  month,  and 
the  actors  in  it  were  Chas.  Hayes,  Dan  Kelly — called  also 
Manus  Kull  and  “the  Bum” — and  Ed.  Lawler,  members 
of  McKenna’s  own  division.  They  were  out  on  a spree 
until  four  in  the  morning,  when  they  went  to  the  house 
of  a poor  old  woman,  named  Downey,  who  kept  a 'she- 
been-shop, roused  her  from  her  sleep,  and,  after  drinking, 
robbed  her  of  her  money — which  was  but  a small  sum — and 
then  forced  her  to  join  them  in  finishing  their  orgies.  They 
were  finally  all  very  drunk,  and  Kelly  took  a pail  and  pro- 
ceeded to  fill  it  from  the  landlady’s  whisky  barrel,  which  sat 
in  a corner,  across  two  large  rocks,  and  the  woman  interfered. 
Kelly,  at  this,  had  his  fiercest  passions  aroused,  and,  fired  by 
the  liquor,  was  ready  for  anything.  The  woman  still  resist- 
ing, he  raised  her  in  his  arms,  being  a muscular  and  power- 
ful man,  carried  her  bodily  to  the  almost  red-hot  stove  and 
threw  her  upon  it,  face  downward,  and  was  holding  her  there, 
despite  her  frantic  struggles  and  loud  cries,  to  be  roasted 
and  burned  to  death,  when  Hayes  came  to  the  rescue,  struck 
Kelly  under  the  ear,  knocked  him  down,  and  liberated  the 
badly  injured  old  lady.  Her  hands  and  face  were  shriveled, 
broiled  in  deep,  large  patches,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that, 
had  she  not  been  taken  off  the  stove  by  Hayes,  she  would  have 
been  killed.  As  it  was,  she  had  to  remain  in  bed,  and  for 
weeks  was  not  able  to  sit  up.  Still  no  arrests  were  made. 


ll 


i 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


239 


Kelly  challenged  Hayes  to  fight  him,  for  intermeddling  with 
an  affair  that,  he  said,  belonged  entirely  to  him,  and  they 
walked  out  in  the  highway,  just  at  daybreak,  all  by  them- 
selves, the -old  woman  still  writhing  and  screaming  with  pain, 
and  fought  ten  rounds,  Hayes,  though  a much  lighter  man 
than  his  antagonist,  giving  Kelly  a severe  pummeling  and 
coming  out  ahead  in  almost  every  contest,  until  Kelly  gave 

it  .....  - . . 

Before  they  left,  however,  Kelly  visited  his  intended  victim, 
and,  striking  his  fist  in  her  very  face,  said,  with  an  oath  : 

“ It’s  about  your  time  ! I’ll  burn  your  accursed  body  up 
yet ! So  look  out  ! ” 

He  would  have  set  fire  to  the  building  and  executed  the 
threat,  at  the  moment,  only  Hayes  insisted  that  he  should 
leave  her,  which  he  did.  Hayes  sent  a physician  to  the 
woman’s  house  immediately.  He  found  its  sole  occupant 
incapable  of  answering  a single  question.  The  little  mind 
the  woman  had  was  for  the  time  quite  distracted,  and  the  floor 
on  fire,  from  the  upsetting  of  the  stove.  Had  she  been  left 
alone  half  an  hour  longer  she  and  her  house  would  have 
been  reduced  to  ashes. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 

Shenandoah  is  a handsome  little  inland  town,  the  center 
of  a productive  coal  country  and  the  place  of  residence  of 
many  excellent  people.  This  volume,  however,  will  not 
have  much  to  do  with  that  particular  portion  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, the  Mollies  and  their  associates  fully  monopolizing 
and  employing  the  writer’s  attention.  Among  those  who 


240  GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 

were  not  members  of  the  organization,  but  still  wicked 
enough  to  be  classed  with  them,  was  one  Micky  Cuff,  the 
proprietor  of  a small  whisky  shop  in  the  city.  The  building, 
the  basement  of  which  Cuff  and  his  family  occupied,  was  a 
two-story  tenement,  standing  nearly  flush  with  the  street,  and 
in  its  cellar  part  rather  low  between  floors.  One  night,  about 
eleven  o’clock,  after  coming  from  a wake,  McKenna  found 
himself  with  Fergus  and  Ned  Monaghan,  for  the  first  time 
inside  Micky  Cuff’s  groggery.  Having  such  a brace  of 
worthies  to  introduce  him,  he  made  sure  of  a cordial  wel- 
come, and  Cuff  shook  his  hand  heartily  as  he  said,  in  his 
gruff  voice — something  between  the  noise  produced  by  filing 
a mill-saw  and  that  made  in  the  smaller  theatres  and  called 
sheet-iron  thunder  : 

“ I’m  plazed  to  mate  ye,  lad  ! Make  yerself  at  home 
here,  an’  when  ye’re  thirsty  come  in  an’  taste  our  liquor  ! If 
you  misbehave — which  I suppose  ye  niver  do — you’ll  be 
well  baten  for  yer  pains  ! ” 

The  detective  had  received  his  cue  from  Fergus  never  to 
dispute  Cuft',  or  find  fault  with  anything  in  his  house,  unless 
he  wanted  a stroke  over  the  head  with  whatever  instrument 
was  most  convenient,  and  therefore  accepted  the  allusion  to 
a fight  without  sending  back  his  habitual  rejoinders  “Two 
can  play  at  that  game  ! ” And  it  was  well  for  him  that  he  did. 
Without  noticing  Cuff’s  captiousness,  McKenna  proposed  : 
“ Drinks  for  four,  or  five,  if  Mrs.  Cuff  would  take  some- 
what ! ” 

“ Af  coorse  she  wull ! ” said  Cuff ; and  that  dumpy  woman 
with  the  small  face,  scanty  gray  hair,  bent  shoulders,  and 
meek  but  deprecatory  smile — she  felt  compelled  to  express 
pleasure  when  her  husband  told  her,  as  plainly  by  a look  as 
words  could  speak,  that  she  must  do  so — came  forward  and 
drank  her  thimbleful  of  poteen  from  the  one  lonesome,  dirty 
glass,  sole  remnant  of  the  half  dozen  she  had  commenced 
housekeeping  with  some  thirty  years  before,  and  said  : 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


241 


“ Thanks  ! This  is  Jim  McKenna,  is  it  ? We  have  heard 
of  you  ! I am  glad  to  meet  any  friend  of  my  husband — and 
Air.  b'erguson  ! ” 

Ferguson  acknowledged  the  compliment  intended,  and  she 
retired  to  the  rear  of  the  room,  where  there  was  work  for 
her,  “ doing  up  ” Cuff’s  linen. 

“ Sure,  an’  ye  are  that  same  bould  Jim  McKenna,  what 
docthered  Pat  Hennessy’s  colt ! I knew  you  be  sight  long 
ago,  but  this  is  the  first  time  you’ve  honored  our  house  with 
your  prisence  ! Niver  mind  ! Here’s  to  your  betther  health, 
Mr.  McKenna  ! ” 

And  good  old  Cuff  drained  his -half  tumbler  of  raw  spirits 
as  unconcernedly  as  if  it  had  not  been  one  of  a dozen  odd, 
similarly  large  and  strong,  he  had  tasted  since  dinner.  Then 
the  four  men  sat  down  to  a greasy  table,  located  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  apartment,  and,  by  the  light  of  the  single,  smoking 
miners’  lamj),  essayed  the  interesting  game  of  poker,  the 
ante  being  the  small  sum  of  one  dime. 

That  room  and  its  contents  would  rejoice  the  graphic 
pencil  of  a Hogarth,  or  the  facile  pen  of  a Dickens,  were 
these  great  artists  alive  to  enter  its  stilling  and  tobacco- 
smoked  precincts.  Let  me  attempt  merely  to  outline  the 
curious  picture. 

Descending  a steep  flight  of  well-worn  stone  steps,  from 
the  sidewalk,  a reasonably  tall  man  would  have  to  stoop  con- 
siderably to  save  his  head  from  coming  in  violent  collision 
with  the  arched  lintel.  Pushing  open  the  paintless,  but  by 
no  means  colorless,  door,  the  interior  premises  were  at  once 
disclosed  to  view.  No,  not  at  once,  as  it  consumed  some 
moments  for  the  best  eyes  to  penetrate  to  the  most  distant 
walls,  by  reason  of.  the  density  and  murkiness  of  the  atmos- 
phere, and  the  prevalence  of  smoke  from  some  cookery  and 
several  tobacco  pipes.  But  there  could  be  no  delay  in  the 
process  of  smelling  the  presence  of  perspiring  humanity  in 
its  most  filthy  forms.  It  required  stomach  and  lungs  inured 


242 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


\ 

by  extended  habit  to  confinement  in  similarly  reeking,  social 
stews,  to  enable  a person  to  exist  for  any  length  of  time  in 
the  air  of  Micky  Cuff’s  castle.  d'wo  low  windovvs  at  the 
front  gave  a dim  light  during  the  day,  while  at  night  a flar- 
ing flame  from  a small  lamp  was  all  the  illumination  the 
ai)artment  afforded.  The  room  was  possibly  thirty  feet  in 
length,  and  eighteen  wide.  The  ceiling,  which  was  once 
whitewashed,  and  then  left  for  years  to  accumulate  smoke, 
dust,  and  moisture,  was  scant  six  feet  above  the  dirty  floor, 
and  the  encompassing  walls  were  of  the  same  piece — adorned 
here  and  there  with  a rusty  nail,  on  which  hung  either  a coat, 
a skirt,  a skillet,  or  a frying-pan — and  in  the  economy  ot  this 
particular  family  it  mattered  little  as  to  their  rotation.  It 
might  be  a pan,  a dress,  and  a hat,  or  perchance  a hat,  a pan, 
and  a dress.  Across  one  corner  of  the  further  end  a string 
was  drawn,  and  to  it  a sheet  hung  suspended.  Behind  this 
temporary  screen  slept  all  the  Cuff  family — man,  wife,  and 
five  small  children.  When  the  detective  entered,  a chicken 
and  two  pullets  were  serenely  roosting  on  the  top  of  this  con- 
venient bed-room  partition,  and  the  curtain  evidenced, 
from  its  plentiful  want  of  cleanliness,  that  they  were  .unaccus- 
tomed to  make  their  nightly  vigils  elsewhere — for  sleep  they 
could  not  while  Cuff  was  awake,  and  that  was  generally  the 
greater  portion  of  the  night.  In  that  triangular  recess  the 
Cuff  family  reposed.  In  that  dingy  apartment  the  same  per- 
sons cooked,  washed,  ate,  drank,  and  sold  whisky  to  custom- 
ers— beside  keeping  two  boarders,  who  occupied  a second 
and  calico  curtained  corner  opposite  that  of  the  Cuffs. 
There  were  no  means  of  ventilation,'  save  through  the  front 
door,  the  windows,  and  the  stove-pipe.  The  liquor  rested 
in  a five-gallon  demijohn,  which  Cuff  denominated  his 
“retail  department.” 

Good  old  Micky  Cuff,  as  he  heard  himself  ironically 
called  by  his  neighbors,  was  not  generally  looked  upon  as 
either  good  qr  handsome.  Heavy  and  tall  of  figure,  he  had 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


243 


plentiful,  long,  stiff',  iron-gray  hair,  and  bristling  eyebrows. 
His  face  was  broad  and  retreating  at  the  base,  and  narrow 
and  ])rojecting  at  the  top,  preceded,  when  he  walked,  by  a 
pug  nose,  which  seemed  always  heartily  ashamed  that  it  was 
not  large  in  proportion  to  the  vast  expanse  of  cheek  flanking 
it  on  either  side,  and  hence  appeared  more  insignificant  than 
it  really  was.  But  the  lack  of  size  in  the  nasal  appendage 
was  more  than  compensated  by  the  yawning  chasm  beneath, 
dividing  the  countenance  into  two  moieties,  and  commonly 
called  a mouth.  Cuff’s  mouth  was  the  crater  of  a miniature 
volcano,  continually  bursting  forth  with  loud  oaths,  running 
streams  of  tobacco  juice  and  bursts  of  fetid  breath,  causing 
the  face  to  tremble  with  the  vehemence  of  the  smouldering 
fires  of  the  elements  within.  To  make  the  thing  still  more 
hideous,  there  were  four  tusks  in  the  front  of  the  upper  and 
lower  jaw,  jutting  out  slantingly,  causing  either  lip  to  pro- 
trude and  assume  a grin,  which  would  have  made  the  fortune 
of  any  actor  who  affected  the  line  of  character  professionally 
dubbed  the  “ heavy  villain.”  When  Cuff  laughed,  which 
was  constantly — and  never  more  diabolically  than  when 
incensed  to  the  pitch  of  working  violence  upon  something — 
his  little,  round,  black  eyes  retreated  into  their  sockets,  the 
nose  wriggled  felicitously,  like  the  stump  of  a dog’s  tail  when 
begging  for  meat,  and  his  four  broad  tusks  clattered  to- 
gether, causing  his  repeated  guffaws  to  assume  the  tone  of  an 
illy  played  pair  of  castanets  combined  with  the  before-men- 
tioned stage  thunder.  In  fact,  the  big  fellow’s  face  was 
open,  like  that  of  an  alligator.  Dressed  in  coarse  miners’ 
blouse  and  pantaloons,  with  boots  of  the  usual  weight — Cuff 
seldom  wore  his  hat,  excepting  when  in  the  street  or  the 
mine,  for  he  was  an  expert  miner,  and  labored  when  he 
could  by  day,  selling  whisky  at  night — he  was  a perfect  won- 
der to  behold. 

Cuff  was  not,  and  never  had  been,  a Mollie,  but  was 
greatly  in  favor  of  the  organization,  and  on  intimate  terms 


244 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


of  friendship  with  its  principal  members.  He  bore  the 
reputation  of  being  a very  rough  customer,  and  undoubtedly 
was,  but  he  may  be  comi)limented  by  the  addenda  : even  he 
“ was  not  as  bad  as  he  looked.”  His  temper  was  as  pecu- 
liar as  his  personnel.  Once  disputed  in  a favorite  theory  or 
belief,  his  anger  was  quick  to  rise,  knew  no  bounds,  and  the 
handiest  weapon,  no  matter  what  it  chanced  to  be — a rock, 
an  axe,  or  hammer,  a bar  of  iron,  a stick  of  wood — was 
employed  upon  the  person  of  his  opponent,  whether  it 
chanced  to  be  man,  woman,  or  child,  and  it  was  a cause  of 
wonder  in  the  neighborhood  that  Micky  had  never  yet  been 
guilty  of  murder.  In  truth,  he  had  not  even  been  arrested  for 
an  assault,  though  frequently  guilty  of  those  of  an  aggra- 
vated character.  His  inner  consciousness  was  as  utterly  in- 
explicable as  his  outward  general  appearance.  Nondescript 
is  about  the  only  word  in  the  English  language  clearly  con- 
veying to  the  mind  of  the  reader  a photograph  of  the  being 
bearing  the  name  of  Micky  Cuff,  of  Shenandoah.  And  the 
same  syllables  equally  well  apply  to  his  mental  and  moral 
attributes — for  he  possessed  both  of  these  in  a marked  and 
powerful  degree. 

Cuff  would  never  refuse  a man  a quart  of  whisky,  even 
though  he  whacked  the  applicant  roundly  before  he  could 
get  off  the  premises  with  it.  During  times  of  suspension, 
when  few  miners  commanded  ready  funds,  Cuff  is  said  to 
have  disposed  of,  without  money  and  without  price,  barrel 
after  barrel  of  licpior,  showing  that  penuriousness  was  not 
one  of  his  many  faults.  Those  who  failed  in  coming  up  and 
settling,  among  the  few  to  whom  he  extended  credit,  when 
better  times  arrived  and  the  cash  was  attainable,  the  good 
old  man  took  occasion  to  remind  just  once  of  their  indebted- 
ness. A continued  omission  to  walk  up,  soon  afterward, 
and  pay  the  score,  resulted  in  the  closing  of  the  account — • 
wiping  away  the  chalk-marks  from  the  wall  with  his  huge 
paw — and  the  balancing  of  his  ledger  by  giving  the  negligent 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF.  245 

creditor  a broken  head  the  very  first  time  they  came  to- 
gether. 

“When  I give,  I gives,”  said  Cuff,  “an’  when  I trusts,  I 
mane  to  have  me  pay,  if  I have  to  take  it  out  of  somebody’s 
hide  ! ” 

So  Cuff’s  customers  were  ordinarily  model  paymasters. 
He  sold  by  the  gallon,  quart,  and  drink,  mostly  for  money 
down.  It  was  most  agreeable  this  way,  all  around. 

Miners,  or  their  companions,  who  took  sick  at  or  near 
Micky  Cuffs  house,  were  considered  fortunate.  If  Cuff 
could  have  his  way,  he  was  the  softest-handed,  gentlest- 
hearted  nurse  in  the  world.  When  he  might  not  do  as  he 
pleased,  the  invalid  was  quickly  compelled  to  seek  other 
quarters.  His  usual  parting  salute  in  such  an  event  would 
be  : 

“ Go  off  now  ! Git  out  of  me  house  ! I’m  not  nage?“ly^ 
but  ye  can’t  stand  here  an’  dispute  the  docther — an’  by  the 
same  token,  that’s  Micky  Cuff!  Dher  manhim  ! Ye  can’t 
be  sick  and  docther  beside  1 Go  away — an’  the  devil  go 
wid  ye  an’  sixpence  I Here’s  six  eggs  to  ye  an’  half  a dozen 
of  ’em  rotten  1 ” 

With  more  of  the  same  sort,  which  would  make  a stranger 
tremble  ; but  those  who  knew  Cuff  were  aware  that,  to  those 
in  misfortune  or  suffering  from  illness,  his  heart  was  that  of  a 
baby. 

When  the  sick  man  wisely  kept  a silent  tongue  in  his 
head,  and  swallowed  the  remedies  provided  without  word  or 
grimace,  no  one  could  be  more  compassionate  than  Cuff. 
His  principal  reliance,  in  all  cases — his  medicamentum  and 
cure-all — was  a preparation  which  he  called  “skelkeen,” 
and  it  was  generally  to  be  gulped  down  very  hot,  so  that  his 
patients  denominated  it — but  not  in  his  presence — “scald- 
keen  ; ” for  they  said  it  scalded  them  sharply  in  the  taking. 
Cuff  made  his  skelkeen  about  in  this  manner  : Taking  three 
fresh-laid  eggs,  plenty  of  sugar,  or  molasses,  he  broke  the 


246 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


eggs,  beat  them,  with  the  otlier  ingredients,  in  a bowl,  then 
added  a generous  quantity  of  whisky  ; putting  all  together 
in  a pot,  or  tin  kettle,  he  stirred  it  while  it  boiled  until  re- 
duced to  the  consistency  of  cream,  when  some  cayenne  pep- 
per was  added,  and  the  fiery  medicine  was  ready  for  use. 

“ Here  ! Take  this  ! he  would  say,  holding  a cupful  of 
the  steaming  stuff  in  his  hand.  “ If  ye  wor  gone,  clane 
dead,  the  skelkeen  would  bring  ye  to  life  again  ! ” 

Should  the  j^atient  dare  refuse  the  draught.  Cuff  would 
call  him  yulgar  names,  not  mentionable  here,  whip  him,  and 
end  by  kicking  him  out  of  doors  and  up  the  stairs,  in  the 
goodness  of  his  heart.  It  was  not  often  that  his  friends  in 
this  manner  incurred  his  displeasure.  Only  strangers  dare 
refuse  the  skelkeen. 

Then  Cuff  had  his  “ mulled  beer,”  suitable  for  ladies,  which 
he  declared  cured  all  the  evils  flesh  is  heir  to.  And  many 
went  to  his  house  to  partake  of  this  remedy.  The  ladies’ 
cure  consisted  of  malt  beer,  or  ale,  boiled  down  thick  and 
strong,  in  some  vessel,  on  the  family  stove,  with  molasses 
enough  added  to  make  it  palatable,  and  drunk  as  hot  as  the 
sick  one  could  bear. 

“ Swallow  this ! It’ll  cure  you,  or  I’m  a gaberlunzie^ 
which  by  the  same  token,  I never  wor  ! ” was  the  rough 
language  accompanying  the  presentation  of  the  vile  concoc- 
tion. Woe  be  unto  the  woman  who  dared  to  turn  her  head 
away  from  the  fumes  of  Cuff’s  mulled  beer  ! She  would  be 
sure  to  hear  such  language  from  the  impromptu  doctor  as 
would  make  her  repent  the  act  during  the  remainder  of  her 
life.  As  with  the  men,  very  few  had  the  courage  to  put 
the  cup  from  their  lips.  They  generally  recovered  their 
health,  however,  after  taking  one  dose  of  the  stimulating 
compound. 

There  was  an  entire  absence  of  spittoons  in  the  place,  and 
as  air  who  visited  there  chewed  tobacco,  or  smoked,  the 
sanitary  condition  of  the  floor  may  be  imagined  but  not  por- 


GOOD  OLD  iMICKY  CUFF. 


247 


trayed.  The  scrubbing-brush  or  mop  never  interfered  with 
the  supreme  sway  of  abominations.  An  old  broom  occa- 
sionally touched  the  surface  of  the  boards,  or  the  coating 
above  them,  but  soap  and  water  were  “too  dampening* for 
the  children  ” — who,  by  its  use,  might  take  sudden  colds — to 
be  placed  upon  anything  in  the  house,  where  their  use  could 
possibly  be  dispensed  with.  An  old  tin  kettle  contained  the 
smoking  tobacco,  and  as.  it  generally  stood  on  the  floor,  ex- 
cepting when  bein'g  passed  from  smoker  to  smoker,  sundry 
discharged  and  useless  quids  got  mixed  with  the  article  to  be 
used  in  pipes,  and  McKenna  was  about  to  refuse  to  fill  his 
doodeen  when  he  looked  at  Cuff,  who  was  regarding  him 
carefully  over  his  cards,  and  remembering  a caution  he  had 
received,  he  choked  down  his  rising  gorge,  employed  some 
of  the  tobacco,  and  handed  the  kettle  to  Fergus. 

Mrs.  Cuff  was  in  most  respects  a fitting  helpmate  for 
Micky.  She  was  fully  as  fine-looking  as  her  husband,  but 
small  in  figure  and  undemonstrative  in  demeanor,  implicitly 
relying  upon  the  ungainly  partner  of  her  bosom  as  a wonder- 
fully superior  being — in  truth,  as  one  of  the  greatest  and 
best  of  men.  She  performed  what  he  might  order,  in  any 
emergency,  promptly  and  uncomplainingly,  and  so  lived  that 
she’  made  not  an  enemy  in  the  town.  True,  her  progeny 
wanted  clothing  sometimes,  and  wallowed  in  the  dust,  as 
dirty  as  the  bomieens  in  the  sty,  growing  up  as  tough  as 
maple  knots  and  as  uneducated  as  Hottentots,  but  it  was  not 
her  fault.  She  had  never  been  taught  any  better,  and  as 
long  as  Micky  thought  it  right,  the  whole  world  would  be 
wrong  entirely,  if  found  to  differ  with  his  expressed  opinion. 
She  worked  hard  to  keep  her  large  family  fed  and  clothed, 
but  the  urchins  would  climb  -rocks,  and  fences,  and  slide 
down  cellar  doors,  and  hence  their  garments  would  show 
holes  and  rents.  They  exhibited  little  evidence  in  their  per- 
sons that  clean  water  ran  in  streams,  or  stood  in  wells,  and 
that  soap  was  cheap  at  corner  groceries.  Rather  the  con- 


248 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


trary.  But  they  and  she  had  always  been  accustomed  to 
such  a life,  and  cannot  be  blamed  for  believing  it  their 
natural  state  of  existence. 

After  several  games  at  cards,  in  which  Cuff  and  his  part- 
ner came  out  ahead,  he  proposed  that  McKenna  should  give 
them  a song. 

“ I hear  you  are  a wild  boy  wid  the  music  an’  dance,” 
said  the  good  old  man,  trying  to  appear  companionable  ; 
“ an’  I have,  these  many  days,  been  wantin’  to  see  yez,  an’ 
hear  some  of  your  best ! ” 

“ Yes,”  chimed  in  Monaghan.  “ A song ! A song ! ” 

“ Do,  plaze  favor  us  ! ” echoed  Mrs.  Cuff,  who  was  now 
sitting  by  the  stove,  mending  a bifurcated  garment  intended 
to  cover  the  body  of  one  of  the  younger  Cuffs. 

McKenna  had  a very  sore  throat  at  the  time,  but  endeav- 
ored to  comply.  The  others  withdrawing  somewhat  from 
the  table,  he  seated  himself  upon  it  and  began  with  “ The 
Miner  and  the  Exciseman,”  the  tune  being  indescribable, 
the  words  about  as  follows  : 

“I  know  that  young  folks  like  to  hear  a song  ; 

Its  something  funny — its  not  very  long  ; 

Its  of  an  exciseman,  the  story  I’ll  tell, 

Who  thought  t’other  night  he  was  going  to  h — 11. 

CHORUS. 

“ With  my  fal-al-addy,  dol,  tol-ol-oddy-dol,”  etc. 

“ This  exciseman  went  out  upon  the  other  day, 

He  met  plenty  of  smugglers,  as  I hear  them  say, 

All  gauging  their  liquor,  just  ready  to  sell. 

This  exciseman  got  drunk,  boys,  the  truth  for  to  tell. — CHORUS. 

\ 

“ Well,  ’twas  nigh  to  a coal  mine  this  exciseman  did  lie. 

When  four  or  five  miners  there  chanced  to  pass  by  ; 

They  took  him  on  their  shoulders  and  bore  him  away. 

Like  a peddler’s  pack,  without  any  delay.  — Chop'J*? 


The  others  loitliHr a~oin'^  somewJint  from  the  talne^  he  seated  himself  upon  it  and  he^aii. 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


249 


It’s  into  the  bucket  they  lowered  him  right  down  ; 

When  this  jolly  exciseman  he  got  underground, 

An’  when  he  awoke  in  great  horror  and  fear, 

Up  starts  a big  miner,  saying,  ‘ What  brought  you  here?  ’ 

— Chorus. 


“ ‘ Indade,  Mr.  Devil,  I don’t  very  well  know, 

But  I see  that  I have  come  to  the  regions  below  ; 

An’  if  ye  spare  me  now,  as  you’ve  oft  done  before. 

I’ll  never  kape  robbin’  the  poor  any  more  ! ’ — CHORUS. 

“ ‘ It’s  what  trade  did  you  follow  when  you  were  above  ? ’ 

‘ I was  an  exciseman,  an’  few  did  me  love.’ 

‘ If  you’re  an  exciseman,  why,  here  you’ll  remain, 

An’  you’ll  never  get  out  of  this  dark  cell  again.’  — Chorus. 

“ * Or  you  must  give  us  money — now  that  we  demand 
Before  you  get  to  one  sight  of  the  land  ! ’ 

‘ Here  is  a hundred  guineas,’  the  exciseman  did  say, 

‘For  1 long  to  get  seeing  the  light  of  day!  ’ ” — Chorus. 

“Served  the  skunk  right!”  said  Cuff,  rising  from  his 
chair,  and  giving  the  table  a thump  with  his  closed  hand 
which  made  the  room  ring,  and  caused  McKenna  to  get 
down  rather  hastily  from  the  perch  and  look  around  to  see 
if  anybody  were  injured.  Cuff  gave  him  a reassuring  wink 
and  continued  : “ I don’t  belave  there  is  any  one  thing, 

exceptin’  a rattlesnake,  that  I hate  more  than  a gauger — or 
a detective  ! ” 

“Them’s  my  sentiments,  precisely  I ” shouted  McKenna. 
“ Come,  let’s  have  another  smile,  all  around,  and  then  we’ll 
go  home  I ” 

This  ended  the  operative’s  first  call  on  good  old  Micky 
Cuff,  but  it  was  by  no  means  his  last.  He  visited  there, 
when  he  could  not  avoid  it,  during  that  winter,  but  later  an 
incident  occurred  that  may  be  related  here,  which  termi- 
nated his  companionship  with  that  party.  He  does  not  go  to 
see  Micky  Cuff  any  more — and  did  not,  after  the  event 


250 


GOOD  OLD  MICKY  CUFF. 


alluded  to,  for  many  months  preceding  his  departure  from 
Shenandoah. 

Cuffs  four  horrid  snags  of  teeth  have  been  nientioned. 
They  were  a source  of  continual  annoyance  to  their  owner, 
and  the  special  aversion  of  Mrs.  Cuff — his  one  defect,  if  the 
word  may  be  permitted.  Both  thought — and  their  friends 
believed — that  if  the  tusks  were  once  removed  and  their  place 
filled  with  a new  and  regular  artificial  set,  he  would  be  an 
elegant-appearing  man.  Cuff  confessed  to  his  boon  com- 
panions that  he  knew  the  fangs  did  slightly  detract  from 
his  beauty  of  countenance  ; and  said  if  he  had  money  to 
S'pare  to  fee  the  dentist  he  certainly  might  have  them  taken 
out,  and  a “dacint  set  put  in  the  mouth!”  When  Fergus, 
on  a certain  occasion,  thought  of  this,  he  cast  a sly  wink  at 
McKenna,  and  said  : “ Now,  Cuff,  McKenna  and  I are 

your  friends.  We  have  noticed  your  anxiety  about  those 

$ 

teeth,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Tom  Hurley,  Jack  Gibbons, 
an’  some  more,  have  got  up  a raffle,  to  come  off  two  weeks 
hence,  to  raise  twenty  dollars  for  you,  for  the  very  purpose 
of  getting  a new  supply  ! ” 

“Yes,”  said  McKenna,  taking  the  hint ; “an’  it’ll  not  be 
long  before  the  money’s  all  collected.  Tom  Hurley  and  I 
can  raise  most  of  it,  I do  believe  1 ” 

Cuff  was  very  thankful,  believed  all  they  said,  and  prom- 
ised to  have  the  four  offending  incisors  extracted.  In  a short 
time  Fergus  informed  the  operative  that  Cuff,  taking  them  at 
their  word,  had  accordingly  had  the  fangs  taken  out. 

“What  I’m  thinking  of  now,”  said  Fergus,  “is  where  you 
an’  I will  be  afther  hidin’  until  Cuff  gets  over  his  anger ! 
When  he  hears  he  has  been  sold,  he’ll  be  as  mad  as  Sam’s 
master ! ” 

“Then  there  was  no  raffle,  afther  all?”  asked  McKenna, 
innocently. 

“ Sure,  an’  you  knew  that  all  the  time ! What’s  the  use  of 
your  playin’  off  ye  didn’t,  at  this  late  hour  ? ” 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


251 


“ Oil,  faith  ! I supposed  you  had  got  up  a ]:)aj')er  for  Cuff, 
. an’  1 was  ready  to  pay  me  share,”  answered  McKenna  ; but 
seeing  that  P'ergus  did  not  care  to  shoulder  all  the  blame,  he 
tinally  assented  to  an  arrangement  by  which  they  were,  for  a 
few  weeks,  at  least,  to  travel  always  in  company,  and  never 
in  the  vicinities  frequented  by  good  old  Micky  Cuff. 

The  raffle  never  came  off — but  the  roof  of  Cuff’s  house  was 
nigh  coming  off  with  the  solid  imprecations  that  good  but 
impulsive  man  indulged  in  when  a neighbor  informed  him 
that  McKenna  and  Ferguson  had  been  playing  a practical 
joke  on  him.  No  one  in  the  place  dared  even  look  suspi- 
ciously at  the  horrid  hole  left  in  his  jaws,  without  incurring 
his  lasting  displeasure.  He  went  about  his  affairs  with  a 
more  hideous  countenance  than  he  had  sported  before  the 
doctor  took  away  his  tusks.  Two  men  in  Shenandoah  never 
go  to  drink,  ^play  cards,  sing  and  dance  with  Micky  Cuff. 
When  invited,  they  invariably  decline. 


■f- 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 

It  was  maintained  by  some  that  the  Mollies  of  the  coal 
regions  were  not  supported  or  recognized  by  the  Ancient 
Order  of  Hibernians  througliout  the  United  States,  but  there 
is  abundant  evidence  of  this  being  utterly  false;  the  Sleepers, 
or  Mollie  Maguires,  being  substantially  part  and  portion  of  the 
society.  That  this  entire  organization,  from  root  to  branch, 
was  rotten  and  corrupt,  has  been  unmistakably  shown  to  the 
people  of  the  country.  As  early  as  January,  1875,  State 
and  National  branches  of  the  Hibernians  were  beginning  to 
feel  uneasy  regarding  their  brethren  in  the  mountain  country 


252 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


of  Pennsylvania.  This  is  exhibited  in  the  fact  that  John 
Kehoe,  County  Delegate  of  Schuylkill,  issued  an  order  to  . 
the  divisions  to  send  their  Bodymasters  and  officers  to  Girard- 
ville,  on  the  fourth  of  the  month  mentioned,  to  confer  with 
the  National  Delegate,  the  great  head  of  the  organization, 
known  as  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians,  in  the  United 
States.  This  man  was  named  Campbell,  and  he  met  the 
leaders  of  the  Mollies  as  stated,  Shenandoah  Division  having 
for  its  representatives  McKenna,  Frank  McAndrew,  and 
others.  Campbell  is  described  as  a medium-sized  man,  with 
gray  hair  and  chin  whiskers ; form  rather  lightly  built,  aged 
about  fifty-five  years  and  countenance  wearing  a look  of 
intelligence.  The  National  Secretary,  Reilley,  was  also 
present,  with  a band  of  Bodymasters,  as  follows  : 

Pat  Collins,  Palo  Alto. 

Frank  Keenan,  Forrestville. 

Nr:D  Kean,  New  Philadelphia. 

Larry  Crean,  Girardville. 

James  Murphy,  Loss  Creek. 

It  was  found  that  the  object  of  the  meeting  at  Lafferty’s 
Hall  was  merely  to  investigate  some  ofiending  brothers. 
Barney  Dolan  was  put  on  trial  for  embezzling  five  hundred 
dollars  of  the  funds,  and,  after  hearing  the  testimony,  Reilley 
and  Campbell  retired,  but  in  a few  minutes  brought  in  a ver- 
dict of  “ not  guilty,”  and  the  big  County  Delegate  looked 
well  pleased,  yet,  when  the  National  Delegate  and  Secretary 
announced  that  Jack  Kehoe  should  retain  the  position  of 
County  Delegate,  Barney’s  face  elongated,  and  its  owner 
was  not  half  as  well  satisfied  as  he  had  appeared  just  a 
moment  before.  The  decision  was  final,  however,  and 
Barney  could  remain  a member  of  the  order,  but  no  longer 
act  as  County  Delegate,  excepting  he  should  be  duly  elected 
at  a State  Convention.  Of  this  there  was  little  hope. 

When  the  regular  routine  of  business  had  been  completed 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


253 


Campbell  made  a long  speech  to  those  assembled,  in  which 
he  counseled  all  to  behave  well,  and  so  generally  conduct 
themselves  as  to  win  the  recognition  of  good  people,  and 
admission  to  the  Church.  He  hinted  that  all  the  Bishops 
desired  was  that  the  Schuylkill  Hibernians  should  remove 
the  stigma  resting  upon  'them,  and  thus  a return  to  the  fold 
was  attainable.  But  for  the  acts  performed  there,  the  ob- 
stacle would  long  since  have  been  removed.  Campbell  was 
given  respectful  attention,  but  his  words  fell  on  deaf  and 
unheeding  ears. 

Then  the  meeting  adjourned  and  the  members  returned  to 
their  homes. 

And  this  was  not  all.  The  era  of  Conventions  seemed  to 
have  come.  On  the  eleventh  of  January,  in  the  same  year, 
a meeting  was  held  in  Pottsville,  again  upon  Kehoe’s  requisi- 
tion, to  prepare  for  a general  celebration  of  St  Patrick’s  Day. 
McKenna  was  in  attendance,  as  Secretary  of  Shenandoah 
Division.  The  following  Bodymasters  also  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance : 

Pat  Dolan,  Big  Mine  Run. 

Chris  Donnelly,  Mt.  Laffee. 

Frank  Keenan,  Forrestville. 

James  Kennedy,  Mt,  Carbon. 

John  Regan,  St.  Clair. 

Pat  Collins,  Palo  Alto. 

Wm.  Callaghan,  Mahanoy  Plane. 

Daniel  Kelly,  Connor’s  and  Patches  adjoining. 

Lawrence  Crean,  Girardville. 

Mike  O’Brien,  Mahanoy  City. 

Peter  Sherry,  St.  Nicholas. 

Peter  Burns,  Silver  Brook. 

John  Donahue,  Tuscarora, 

J.\mes  J.  Gallagher,  Coaldale. 

Bradley,  Representing  Pat  Butler,  of  Loss  Creek, 

Frank  McAndrew,  Shenandoah. 

James  Kerrigan,  Coaldale. 

James  Roarty,  Tamaqua. 


254 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


Excepting*  only  Florence  Mahanoy  Division,  of  Turkey 
Run,  which  was  not  represented,  almost  every  lodge  had 
present,  on  this  important  occasion,  a full  corps  of  five  offi- 
cers, viz.  : President,  or  Bodymaster,  Vice-President,  Secre- 
tary and  Assistant  Secretary,  and  Treasurer. 

After  the  oiiening  by  prayer,  Kehoe  explained  the  object 
of  the  gathering,  and  all  the  members  able  to  purchase  were 
supplied  with  suitable  regalia  ; flags  were  bought  and  music 
engaged,  when  once  more  the  meeting  of  Bodymasters  was 
dissolved. 

Jack  Kehoe  was  fast  becoming  a man  of  power  in  Schuyl- 
kill County  and  gaining  supreme  control  of  the  dreaded 
Mollie  Maguires.  It  was  policy  on  his  part  to  invite  these 
conferences.  While  the  President  and  officers  of  the  bodies 
were  together,  he  could  cultivate  their  acquaintance  and 
push  certain  plans,  political  and  otherwise,  which,  in  due 
season,  he  would  carry  to  completion.  He  desired  to  see 
all  the  leading  men  en  masse,  and  succeeded-  The  presence 
of  the  national  representatives,  and  the  deference  shown  to 
Jack  by  them,  in  virtue  of  his  office,  at  the  first  Convention, 
gave  him  eminence  in  the  eyes  of  those  possessing  an  inferior 
order  of  intellect  and  standing  lower  in  the  official  scale  than 
himself.  The  County  Delegate  was  a scheming,  crafty  fellow, 
and  looked  far  into  the  future,  thinking  that  he  could  see 
for  himself  and  his  family  political  distinctions  and  riches  in 
the  deft  and  continued  handling  of  the  Mollies.  He  did 
not,  however,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  penetrate  quite  deep 
enough  into  the  obscurity  of  coming  events.  Had  he 
pierced  the  mystic  veil  a little  further,  the  ghastly  spectre 
that  would  have  glided  before  his  startled  vision  might  have 
turned  him  from  his  evil  pathway,  with  terror-stricken  face 
and  palsied  limbs,  to  seek  the  bloodless  and  better  course. 

Kehoe  was  now  the  self-crowned  king  of  the  Mollies  in 
Schuylkill.  They  moved  promptly,  like  so  many  puppets, 
at  his  will,  and  when  he  commanded  a halt  the  mysterious 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


255 


clan  paused  in  its  deadly  work.  Would  he  order  a cessation 
of  hostilities  ? Or  must  the  word  be  “Forward — march?” 
Nobody  could  tell ! That  the  General  intended  tough  work 
was  apparent  from  the  activity  he  had  inaugurated  among 
the  Body  masters,  and  they  were  the  men  who  acted  as  the 
Lieutenants  and  leaders  of  corps  for  the  Commander-in- 
chief. 

At  this  time  one  Pat  Hester,  who  had  for  two  months 
past  been  in  custody,  on  a criminal  charge,  was  released  and 
went  directly  to  his  home,  not  far  from  Summit  Hill.  He 
was  a bad  and  violent  man,  and  formeily  of  high  standing  in 
the  order.  More  will  be  heard  of  him  hereafter. 

Immediately  following  the  ball  at  Pottsville,  January  20th, 
in  which  nearly  three  hundi'ed  Mollies  and  their  ladies  par- 
ticipated, and  a very  brief  visit  to  New  Philadelphia  and 
Silver  Creek,  the  operative  returned  to  Shenandoah. 

On  the  twenty-fifth,  the  country  was  visited  by  a snow- 
storm of  unusual  severity.,  The  same  day  McKenna  learned 
from  a friend  that  Pat  Dormer  had  met  his  wife  at  a neigh- 
bor’s, and  they  engaged  in  an  animated  conversation  that 
ended  in  Pat  giving  the  lady  a cruel  beating,  for  which  little 
act  of  indiscretion  he  was  still  suffering  in  Pottsville  jail, 
where  he  would  have  to  remain  for  three  months. 

At  the  end  of  January  the  detective  had  another  attack 
of  his  old  complaint,  chills  and  fever,  and  for  some  days  was 
ordered  by  the  physicians  to  remain  indoors. 

It  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  great  strike  was  still  in 
progress  ; work  was  nearly  at  an  end  ; some  of  the  stores 
in  the  mines  were  closing  up  business  and  others  refusing 
credit  to  miners,  causing  considerable  suffering  among  those 
who,  during  flush  times,  hadimprovidently  spent  their  money, 
keeping  none  for  this  sort  of  emergency.  It  was  no  source 
of  surprise,  then,  that  the  mere  announcement,  founded  upon 
rumor,  that  Col.  Cake  had  been  seen  at  Loss  Creek,  where 
he  was  to  sign  papers,  agreeing,  on  the  part  of  the  Philadel- 


256 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


phia  and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  to  the  basis  in 
vogue  preceding, the  strike,  should  create  wild  excitement 
over  the  country.  In  Shenandoah,  nearly  all  the  Mollies 
entered  upon  a prolonged  debauch  on  the  strength  of  the 
story.  Frank  McAndrew,  the  President,  was  entirely  over- 
come by  liquor,  and  meeting  the  young  Welshman,  Comer 
James,  engaged  in  a fight  with  him  and  his  companions, 
during  which  knives  and  pistols  were  freely  used,  but  no 
persons  seriously  wounded.  McHugh  and  Travers  were  of 
McAndrew’s  party,  and  Comer  James  and  his  confederates 
finally  withdrew  from  the  field.  McKenna,  from  his  kee})ing 
the  house,  through  the  doctor’s  commands,  was  not  a partici- 
pant in,  or  present  during  the  time  of  this  liitle  disturbance. 
Fie  heard  of  it  the  next  day,  when  McHugh  went  to  see  him. 
That  person  was  terribly  in  earnest,  swearing  big  oaths  with- 
out number  that  the  time  must  soon  come  when  Comer 
James  should  be  made  to  suffer  for  his  acts.  He  thought  it 
bad  policy  to  insist  upon  immediate  revenge,  but  stated, 
when  work  was  fairly  commenced  and  everything  would  not 
be  charged  upon  the  society,  he  and  the  rest  could  never  be 
satisfied  until  two  men  were  obtained  to  make  way  with  the 
murderer  of  Cosgrove.  McHugh  ended  by  remarking  that 
“ it  was  a shame  and  a disgrace  to  all  members  of  the  order 
that  Comer’s  taking  off  had  been  so  long  delayed  !” 

The  starting,  a few  days  subsequently,  of  several  large 
collieries,  made  the  emissary  think  that,  if  others  were  as 
anxious  as  McHugh,  Comer  James  would  have  to  look  out 
for  himself.  As  James  had  been  previously  warned,  through 
the  instrumentality  of  Mr.  Franklin,  he  did  not  deem  it  nec- 
essary to  do  more  in  this  instance  than  make  due  report 
of  McHugh’s  words.  This  he  did  at  once,  and  Mr.  Frank- 
lin again  had  the  information  conveyed  to  James  that  he 
stood  in  imminent  danger  of  losing  his  life. 

Father  McFadden  was  now  visited  by  a committee  of 
Mollies,  asking  permission  to  take  part  in  the  general  cele- 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


257 


bration  of  St.  Patrick’s  Day,  for  which  e?ftended  preparations 
were  being  made,  but  he  refused,  cursing  the  Mollies  and 
their  committee  with  the  heaviest  maledictions.  He  charged 
them  with  being  murderers  and  assassins,  and  commanded 
them  to  leave  the  order.  They  would  do  nothing  of  the 
kind. 

McKenna  was  one  of  the  committee,  by  the  request  of 
Jack  Kehoe,  but  had  no  hope,  at  the  time,  of  being  success- 
ful in  the  mission.  Kehoe  and  others  determined  to  take 
part  in  the  celebration  if  they  had  to  walk  over  the  priest’s 
dead  body.  The  detective  was  apparently  as  anxious  as  the 
rest,  and  managed  to  raise  nine  dollars — ^‘from  where,”  he 
said  his  friends  “ could  guess  ” — with  which  to  purchase 
himself  regalia  for  the  seventeenth  of  March.  They  natu- 
rally supposed  he  had  disposed  of  more  counterfeit  money. 

The  early  part  of  March  a riot  occurred  at  Jeddo  and 
Buck  Mountain,  during  which  three  men  were  shot.  The 
Mollies,  being  largely  in  force  there,  were  accused  of  bring- 
ing on  hostilities. 

At  about  this  date  three  hundred  men  gathered  in  the 
same  vicinity  to  prevent  the  collieries  from  working,  and  ex- 
tinguished the  fires  under  the  pumping  boilers,  the  intention 
being  to  drown  out  the  mines  and  bar  their  owners  from 
operating  them  for  a long  time.  The  country  was  over- 
spread with  snow  to  the  depth  of  a foot,  on  the  level,  and 
travel  upon  the  mountains  was  again  greatly  impeded,  mak- 
ing the  work  of  the  Mollies  easy  of  accomplishment  and  their 
escape  almost  certain. 

About  the  fourth  of  March  a so-called  Anti-Monopoly  Con- 
vention was  appointed  to  take  place  at  Harrisburg,  having 
for  its  principal  purpose  a movement  against  the  Philadelphia 
and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  by  individual  and 
other  large  operators.  The  laboring  man,  excepting  he 
might  be  far  removed  from,  and  a great  consumer  of  the 
product  of  the  coal  fields,  could  have  but  small  interest  in 


258  . 


IIOSTILITfES  CONTINUED. 


the  result  of  the  meeting,  yet  many  of  this  class  attended 
as  delegates  and  took  part  in  the  proceedings.  Among  them 
was  Muff  Lawler,  who  reported,  on  his  return,  that  there 
were  nearly  three  hundred  representatives  present,  and  it 
was  decided  to  ask  the  Legislature,  by  resolution,  to  cause 
an  investigation  to  be  made,  by  committee,  of  the  officers  of 
the  com[)any,  and  say  why  their  charter  should  not  be  abro- 
gated. Lawler  further  said  that  the  committee  would  be 
appointed  and  the  investigation  set  on  foot.  All  of  which 
did  not  prove  that  there  was  anything  wrong  in  the  organiza- 
tion to  be  investigated. 

Had  the  Mollies  been  aware  of  the  full  extent  of  Mr.  F. 
B.  G Owen’s  proceedings  in  the  coal  fields — as  President  of 
the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway  and  of  the  Philadel- 
phia and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company — and  the  w’ork 
he  had  instituted  years  before,  to  punish  the  guilty,  and  clear 
their  confederates  from  the  land,  wresting  from  them  by  the 
strong  liand  of  the  law  the  great  power  they  held  over  the 
inhabitants,  it  is  believed  that  his  life  would  have  been  taken 
— at  least,  attempts  vvould  have  been  made  upon  it.  But 
the  President  calmly  waited  his  time,^which  he  knew  must 
come,  and  relaxed  no  effort,  withdrew  no  force — on  the  con- 
trary, kept  himself  more  closely  down  to  his  work — through 
all  these  mutterings  and  threatenings.  His  head  was  clear, 
his  nerves  unshaken. 

Charles  Hayes,  who  was  just  from  Summit,  where  he  had 
gone  to  secure  work  and  see  some  relatives,  reported  that 
the  Laborers’  Union  and  the  Mollies  had  made  common 
cause  in  the  fight  on  Summit  Hill,  headed  by  Tom  Fisher, 
County  Delegate,  Pat  McKenna,  Bodymaster,  and  a promi- 
nent Mollie  named  Boyle.  They  were  determined  that, 
unless  the  collieries  submitted  to  the  general  demand,  they 
should  not  have  men  to  do  their  w^ork. 

Sunday,  the  fourteenth  of  March,  the  Mollies  of  Shenan- 
doah were  startled  by  the  reported  finding  of  the  dead  body 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED, 


259 


of  Edward  Coyle,  one  of  their  number,  in  the  slip  of  Plank 
Ridge  Colliery,  beloi^ing  to  the  Coal  and  Iron  Company. 
Several  weeks  before — in  fact,  some  time  in  January — Coyle 
had  been  on  a spree  and  was  heard  to  say  that  in  a few  days 
he  would  leave  the  locality  and  go  to  Pittsburg,  where  he  was 
promised  employment.  He  was  never  seen  again  alive.  When 
the  water  had  been  drawn  off,  his  remains  were  discovered, 
the  rats  having  mutilated  his  flesh  horribly.  Parts  of  his 
fingers  were  entirely  eaten  away.  His  hands  were  clasped 
over  his  head,  and  there  were  other  evidences  that,  while 
going  to  his  boarding-house  at  night,  he  had  fallen  into  the 
shaft  and  been  killed.  There  was  a coroner’s  incpiest,  but 
nothing  more  than  here  related  elicited.  The  Mollies  held 
a meeting  and  resolved  to  take  no  action  in  Coyle’s  case, 
not  even  to  reveal  that  he  was  a Mollie,  as,  should  they  let 
the  secret  out.  Father  O’Reilly  would  never  allow  his  re- 
mains  burial  in  a Catholic  cemetery.  This  was  the  course 
pursued.  It  was  also  reported,  in  this  connection,  that  the 
priest  said  he  was  glad  the  society  was  to  parade  as  a body, 
on  the  seventeenth,  as  he  would  be  the  better  able  to  judge 
who  were  and  who  were  not  Mollies.  He  alreadv  knew 
them  in  the  dark,  as  cut-throats,  robbers,  and  incendiaries, 
and  concluded  his  denunciation  by  observing  that  the  curse 
of  God  was  sure  to  fall  upon  them.  Father  Bridgeman,  of 
Girftrdville,  expressed  similarly  forcible  opinions  of  the 
society  and  all  who  had  anything  to  do  with  it.  Still  the 
Mollies  would  parade,  and  did  parade. 

Before  the  middle  of  the  month  arrived  a man  named 
Dixon  was  shot  by  another,  called  Bradley,  at  Mine  Hill 
Gap.  The  two  had  for  some  time  been  on  bad  terms,  and,  tak- 
ing advantage  of  a spree  which  he  was  on  at  the  time,  Dixon 
went  to  and  fired  ui)on  Bradley’s  house  in  the  night,  but, 
fortunately,  hurting  none  of  the  inmates.  Bradley,  who  was 
an  engineer  and  a man  of  nerve  and  resolution,  arose,  seized 
his  revolver,  went  out  and  shot  Dixon  through  the  heart,  kill- 


26o 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


ing  him  almost  instantly.  The  engineer  at  once  reported 
Dixon’s  death  to  the  authorities,  gave  himself  up,  had  a trial, 
and  was  discharged  as  having  acted  purely  in  self-defense, 
a verdict  which  was  generally  commended,  excepting  by 
Dixon’s  intimate  relatives  and  companions.  Even  the 
Mollies  in  Shenandoah  said  Bradley  was  justified  by  the 
circumstances. 

I’he  great  day — the  seventeenth  of  March — came  at  last, 
and  ended  without  any  great  disturbance.  The  members  of 
Shenandoah  Division  combined  with  those  from  Loss  Creek, 
and  mustered  nearly  one  hundred  men  for  the  procession. 
There  were  four  hundred  Mollies  in  line  at  Mahanoy  City. 
After  organizing  at  a hall  in  that  place.  Jack  Kehoe  made  an 
extempore  oration,  in  the  course  of  which  he  said  that  the 
parade  was  looked  upon  by  some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  town 
as  a direct  and  open  threat  to  overpower  them,  or  a signal  for 
the  resumption  of  a reign  of  carnage  ; and,  if  any  of  the  Mol- 
lies got  drunk  while  in  the  neighborhood,  he  would,  in  person, 
strip  off  their  regalia,  then,  if  necessary,  get  an  officer,  have 
them  arrested  and  sent  to  prison. 

“ Let  us  show  the  clergy,”  he  concluded,  ^‘that,  although 
we  bear  a bad  name,  we  are  very  far  from  deserving  it ! 
There  is  no  truth  in  what  they  sa}^,  exceptin’  when  we  meet 
a party  opposed  to  us — then  we  do  as  well  as  we  can.  Let 
us  all  act  as  men — not  as  boys  ! ” 

Kehoe’s  remarks  were  loudly  applauded.  He  was  followed 
by  a man  named  Love,  who  spoke  in  a similar  vein,  but 
without  the  County  Delegate’s  vehemence. 

As  before  stated,  the  day  passed  off  quietly,  and  the  Mol- 
lies returned  to  their  homes  in  their  usual  condition. 

The  same  remark  does  not  apply  to  Number  Three  Hill, 
where,  at  lo  p.m.,  there  was  a savage  battle  fought  between 
John  Thompson  and  Martin  Deane,  on  the  part  of  the  Mol- 
lies, and  a crowd  of  Sheet  Irons,  headed  by  a man  named 
Welch.  The  Iron  Clads,  in  trying  to  kill  Thompson,  shot 


They  shot  a young  girl ^ named  Mcllale,  sending  a bullet  through  her  arniy  narrowly  missing  a vital  parti 


HOSTILITIES  CONTINUED. 


261 


a.  young  girl  named  McHale,  sending  a bullet  through  her 
arm,  narrowly  missing  a vital  part.  Some  of  the  Shenandoah 
men,  when  they  heard  this  news,  promptly  started  to  find 
Welch,  who  wisely  kept  out  of  their  way.  Had  the  crowd 
encountered  him,  doubtless  his  blood  would  have  been  shed. 
McKenna  was  so  ill  as  to  be  confined  to  the  house  after  the 
[ procession,  hence  did  not  join  in  the  search. 

Sunday,  the  twenty-first  of  March,  Father  O’Reill}^  read  out 
in  church,  almost  complete,  a list  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  who 
had  attended  the  parade,  McKenna  among  the  rest,  asking 
the  prayers  of  the  congregation  for  the  salvation  of  their 
nouls.  The  Mollies  merely  laughed  at  the  proceeding,  when 
outside  the  church,  where  some  still  persisted  in  going,  and 
said  such  exhibitions  of  spleen  would  do  them  no  harm. 

A.t  the  close  of  the  month,  a number  of  strange  men  arrived 
at  Frackville,  to  work  in  the  mines,  from  Philadelphia,  with  a 
few  engineers  for  the  railway  company,  the  railroaders  having 
long  before  submitted  to  a reduction  of  ten  per  cent.,  refusing 
longer  to  hold  out  with  the  miners  and  other  laborers,  but 
. the  imported  workmen  had  to  be  sent  home,  and  dare  not  go 
to  their  employment,  so  hostile  were  the  demonstrations 
made  against  them  by  the  Mollies  and  members  of  the  Labor- 
ers’ Union. 

Then  came  the  news  that  the  telegraph  office  at  Summit 
Station  had  been  fired  and  burnt  to  the  ground.  It  was 
supposed  to  have  resulted  from  the  act  of  an  incendiary. 
Not  long  after,  a railway  train,  loaded  with  coal,  was  thrown 
from  the  track  and  the  cars  badly  smashed  up.  Many  Mol- 
lies lived  in  the  neighborhood,  and  these  deeds  were  prob- 
ably performed  by  members  brought  from  a distance. 

In  view  of  the  frequency  of  these  occurrences’in  the  mining 
country,  McKenna  now  suggested  that  Mr.  Franklin  send 
policemen  to  different  places,  with  orders  to  openly  make 
! investigations,  and  also  act  as  a preventive  of  further  difficul- 
ties. It  was  impossible  for  the  operative  to  do  more  than  he 


262  PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES. 


was  doing.  The  magistrates  were  powerless^  and  other 
county  officials  in  the  same  predicament. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

PLOT  TO  DESTROY  TRE  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES. 

Before  the  opening  of  spring,  McKenna  fully  recovered 
his  health — at  least  was  well  enough  to  join  his  friends  in 
many  of  their  midnight  and  other  carousals  and  sprees.  It 
was  afterward  remembered  by  his  associates,  that  as  soon  as 
any  dark  deeds  were  done,  he  generally  managed,  sick  or 
intoxicated,  to  make  his  appearance  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
occurrences.  But  these  slight  eccentricities  in  the  behavior 
’of  the  wild  Irishman  of  the  mountains  passed  at  the  time  un- 
noticed by  the  Mollies.  That  he  came  and  went  they  knew, 
but  questioned  not  the  why  or  wherefore.  So  little  were 
they  on  the  alert  for  anything  Jim  McKenna  might  do, 
that,  in  reality,  they  seemed  to  think  the  very  act  he  per- 
formed the  most  natural  for  a man  of  his  supposed  character 
under  the  attending  circumstances.  While  looking  after  the 
threatened  destruction  of  the  high  and  costly  bridges  of  the 
Catawissa  Railway — of  these  more  hereafter — the  detective 
had  a queer  adventure,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ringtown 
Mountain,  that  his  reports  make  no  mention  of,  but  a descrip- 
tion of  which  the  writer  has  verbally  received  within  the 
past  few  months.  Chancing  to  be  in  Girardville,  on  a visit 
to  Jack  Kehde,  the  operative  encountered  Frank  McAndrew. 
and  a miner  named  Maguire — the  latter  being  a Mollie  by 
name  as  well  as  by  nature — both  of  whom  were  perceptibly 
the  worse  for  much  spirits  they  had  imbibed  during  the  day, 
and  they  found  it  very  difficult  to  guide  their  own  move- 


PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES.  263 

merits,  unaided,  over  the  homeward  road,  which  was  still 
deeply  covered  with  snow.  Kehoe  saved  the  almost  help- 
less .men  from  freezing  to  death,  by  taking  them  into  his 
house  and  seating  them  by  the  stove  ; but,  through  later 
absorption  of  a few  more  drinks  at  the  bar,  they  were 
left,  in  the  course  of  a few  hours,  in  as  poor  condition  for 
locomotion  as  before  entering  the  tavern. 

“See  here,  McKenna,”  said  the  County  Delegate,  “I 
don’t  see  whatever  I’m  to  do  wid  these  fellows  ! Sure  an’ 
they  insist  on  goin’  home  this  very  night  to  Shenandoah, 
beyant,  at  all  hazards,  an’  I know,  as  well  as  I know  I’m 
now  spakin*,  they’ll  be  stone  dead,  if  they  ever  live  to  get 
off  the  mountain,  wid  the  cold  an’  the  whisky!  You’ll  hev 
to  go  in  their  company,  an’  see  they  don’t  fraze  up  en- 
thirely  1 ” 

“ Faixan’  I am  the  lad  that  kin  do  that  same  I ” answered 
the  Secretary!  “But  how  am  I to  act  wid  the  obstinate 
bastes  if  they  jist  lie  down  in  the  snow  an’  refuse  to  move 
That  might  bother  me  ! The  divil  can’t  match  a drunken 
man  fur  obstinacy  ! ” 

“ Oh,  fur  that  matther,”  said  King  Jack,  with  a cruel  blaze 
in  his  eye,  “if  they  do  that,  ye’ll  hev  to  build  a fire  under 
’em  as  we  do  below  a balky  mule,  an’  here’s  plenty  of 
matches  for  your  use  ! ” 

Kehoe  handed  the  operative  a box  of  lucifers  and  held  the 
light  until  the  three  men  were  well  off  the  platform  in  front 
of  his  house,  when  he  wished  them  plenty  of  “ good  luck  ” 
and  shut  the  door,  leaving  them  in  darkness. 

Kehoe  having  found  out  that  the  men  carried  a little 
■ money  with  them,  and  fearing  they  might  be  robbed,  even  if 
! lucky  enough  to  escape  death  by  freezing,  should  they  linger 
: by  the  roadside,  was  glad  to  have  McKenna  travel  in  their 

. ' company. 

The  path  was  dimly  marked  and  the  obscurity  almost  im- 
penetrable, as  the  young  man,  with  a drunken  miner  clinging 


264  PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES. 


to  either  arm,  attempted  to  seek  the  way  over  the  hills 
to  Shenandoah.  First  McAndrew  stumbled  and  fell,  and 
McKenna  was  forced  to  relax  his  hold  of  Maguire  and  help 
his  superior  officer  to  his  feet.  While  this  was  being  accom- 
plished, Maguire,  left  unpropped,  and  unable  or  unwilling 
to  stand  alone,  suddenly  slipped  and  went  down  headlong 
through  the  darkness  into  a deep  bank  of  snow,  in  which  he 
floundered  and  sputtered  like  a struggling  novice  at  a swim- 
ming-school. McKenna,  at  first,  tried  hard  to  restrain  his 
temper,  and  finally  succeeded  in  starting  both  of  his  prote- 
g6s  once  more  en  route  for  home.  But  his  patience  gave 
way  after  three  or  four  repetitions  of  the  same  act,  varied 
only  by  McAndrew  rolling  down  a steep  declivity,  and  com- 
ing very  near  going  off  a ledge  of  rock  to  the  bottom,  a dis- 
tance of  thirty  feet. 

“I’ll  be  shivered!”  exclaimed  McAndrew,  when  once 
more  in  the  road,  “if  I walk  another  step!  What’ ser  use 
gettin’  all  tired  out,  when  its  so  warrum  and  nice  slapin’ 
here  ? I’m  jist  goin’  to  bed  ! ” 

So  saying,  the  Bodymaster  threw  himself  flat  in  the  snow- 
bank, stretched  out  his  limbs,  and  prepared  to  stay  where  he 
was  during  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

“Tha’so!”  repeated  Maguire.  “ Move ’long,  Frank,  an’ 
don’t  take  up  all  the  bed  ! ” 

And  he  quickly  followed  McAndrew’s  example.  Both 
continued  recumbent,  despite  the  detective’s  exertions  to 
keep  them  in  the  observance  of  a perpendicular  ; and  before 
many  minutes  elapsed,  were  snoring  away  in  concert,  as 
though  safely  under  blankets  at  their  respective  homes. 

“ What  the  divil  am  I to  do  now  ? ” soliloquized  McKenna. 
“ It’ll  never  do  to  follow  Kehoe’s  advice,  beside  the  matches 
are  as  wet  as  a dog  after  a bath,  wid  the  snow  in  me  pocket ! 
Here’s  a raal  quandary!”  He  did  not  forget  his  brogue 
even  when  talking  to  himself. 

Presently  the  agent  observed  a faint  light  in  the  distance, 


PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAIVISSA  BRIDGES.  265 


and  resolved  to  make  one  more  effort.  He»  shouted  in 
Me  Andrew’s  ear  : 

“ Get  up  now  ! Faith  an’  I see  the  light  in  Mike  Carey’s 
shebeen!  Sure  they’re  awake  yet,  an’  ye  know  the  sort  o’ 
liquor  they  sells?  Get  up,  an’  we’ll  rouse  that  drunken 
Maguire — not  that  you’re  touched  at  all  yourself — an’  go  on  a 
few  steps,  an’  I’ll  stan’  trate  when  Mike  Casey  puts  out  the 
stainin’  whisky-punch  ! ” 

“ What-yer  say  about  ‘ whis-sy-punch  ? ’ ” drowsily  inquired 
McAndrew,  turning  over  on  his  side  and  filling  his  mouth 
with  snow,  “ Was-is — it  bout  ‘ whissy-punch  ?’  ” 

“ I say  old  Mike  Casey’s  place  is  jist  beyant,  an’  that  I’ll 
trate  I ” 

“ Enough  said  I Give  me  a lif begged  McAndrew, 
and  he  strove  to  rise.  “ I — I — belave  I really  am  gettin’ 
uncommon  thirsty  ! ’Swonderful  how  atin’  snow’ll  make  one 
take  to  the  drink  ! ” 

'Fhe  drunken  fellow  blew  the  snow  away  from  his  eyes, 
nostrils,  and  mouth,  and  truly  stood  alone,  while  the  sober 
man  turned  his  attention  to  Maguire.  That  besotted  indi 
vidual  at  first  flatly  refused  to  get  up,  but  finally  made  out 
to  rise  to  his  feet,  and  McKenna,  once  more  taking  an  arm 
of  each,  marched  away  in  the  direction  of  the  light. 

The  shebeen-shop  of  Mike  Casey  and  his  wife — an  elderly 
couple,  living  on  the  mountain  by  themselves — was  reached 
after  much  difficulty,  and  the  detective,  puffing  like  a por- 
poise, from  over-exertion,  released  his  proteges  and  knocked 
at  the  unpainted  door.  When  left  to  themselves  McAndrew 
and  Maguire  fell  in  a limp  and  confused  heap,  like  so  many 
damp  rags,  upon  the  ground. 

Soon  there  were  heard  footsteps  within  and  Casey  opened 
the  door,  saying  : 

“ Who  the  divil  comes  here  at  this  time  o’  night  ? ” 

“ Oh,  it’s  McKenna  an’  two  belated  travelers,”  answered 
the  operative. 

12 


266  PLOT  TO  DBS  TR  OY  CAT  A V/ISSA  BRID  CBS. 


“Well,  whatever  have  brought 7^7//  here?  But  niver 
mind  ! Step  in,  an’  in  a jiffy  the  old  woman  will  be  out  to 
help  you  ! ” 

“ Its  very  well  to  say  ‘ come  in  ! ’ an’  / can  do  it,  but 
these  two  spalpeens  here,  are  too  drunk  to  do  anything  ! 
Just  get  on  some  clothes,  plaze,  an’  come  help  me  to  house 
the  rascals  ! ” 

In  a few  moments,  by  dint  of  hard  pulling  and  much  tugging 
at  hands  and  feet,  McAndrew  and  Maguire  were  at  last  hauled 
inside  the  cabin,  where  they  reposed  on  the  floor,  a couple  of 
as  wet  and  uncomfortable  bodies  as  can  well  be  imagined. 

Casey’s  shanty  consisted  of  a single  room,  and  a half  loft 
overhead,  to  which  latter  place  access  was  had  by  a wooden 
ladder.  In  the  lower  apartment  slept  the  man  and  wife,  on 
a bed  in  one  corner.  In  the  same  room  they  also  ate,  drank, 
did  their  washing,  cooking,  and  sold  whisky  and  tobacco. 
Only  one  window,  the  door,  and  a big  chimney  gave  light 
and  ventilation  to  the  shop.  It  was  a rough  retreat,  but  far 
better  and  warmer  than  out-of-doors,  and  quite  acceptable 
under  the  circumstances.  Old  Mrs.  Casey — blind  of  one 
eye,  not  exaxtly  handsome-looking,  and  only  partly  dressed — 
was  by  this  time  ready  to  wait  on  her  unex>pected  but  not 
unwelcome  customers.  By  again  shouting  “ w'hisky-punch  ” 
in  McAndrew’s  ear,  the  detective  managed  to  put  his  friend 
upright,  and,  after  imbibing  more  drink,  assisted  him  to 
ascend  the  steep  ladder,  to  the  only  spare  bedroom  in  the 
building.  Maguire  had  to  be  shaken  for  half  an  hour,  some 
matches  set  off  under  his  nose,  and  one  slightly  touched  to 
his  cheek,  before  he  could  be  sufficiently  awakened  to  drag 
himself  to  the  same  portion  of  the  cabin.  Covering  the 
men  with  the  hay  forming  their  couch,  and  all  the  clothes 
he  could  find,  McKenna  left  the  drowsy  worthies.  The  loft 
would  only  contain  two. 

“Now  phat  are  we  to  do  wid  you  ? ” inquired  old  man 


^^jVoiu  shiit  your  eyes! 


PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES.  26 J 

“ Oh,  I kin  sit  up  ! Its  not  long  ’til  niornin’  ! ” 

“ An’  ye  shall  do  no  such  thing  ! ” said  Mrs.  Casey.  “ I 
knows  a trick  worth  two  o’  that ! ” 

She  then  went  hunting  about  the  room  until  she  found  an 
old  shawl  and  some  bags,  the  latter  suitable  for  holding 
corn.  These  she  spread  on  the  floor  before  the  hearth- 
stone, beyond  which  was  a rosy,  red  bed  of  anthracite, 
resting  upon  a novel  grate,  made  of  railroad  iron  and 
smaller  bars,  and  which  was  sending  a genial  warmth 
throughout  the  apartment. 

“ Auld  man  ! Get  ye  to  bed  ! ” said  Mrs.  Casey.  He 
obeyed  the  command,  and  his  wife  piled  upon  the  recum- 
bent McKenna — who  had  placed  himself,  dressed  as  he 
was,  on  the  improvised  mattress,  in  accordance  with  an 
imperious  gesture  of  Mrs.  Casey — her  husband’s  lately 
vacated  coat,  and  other  garments.  Then  she  said  : 

“ Now,  lad,  shut  your  eyes  ! ” 

McKenna  did  so,  a.nd  presently  heard  a rustling,  as  of 
changing  garments,  and  felt  his  coverings  greatly  augmented 
in  weight.  Mrs.  Casey  retired  to  the  scant  and  only  bed  tho 
place  afforded. 

“ I hope  ye’ll  slape  comfortably  ! ” said  Mike,  laughing. 

The  operative  knew  that  the  kind-hearted  old  lady  had 
heaped  her  own  woolen  garments  upon  him  in  default  of 
other  comforts. 

The  wind  came  up  so  furiously  through  the  crevices  in  the 
floor,  and  the  snow  sifted  down  so  plentifully  from  the  roof, 
that  the  tired  man  could  not  rest.  Excepting  on  one 
occasion,  however,  when  he  thought  he  heard  Casey  get  up, 
and  turned  to  see  that  it  was  not  his  step  but  that  of  his 
helpmate,  he  pretended  to  slumber,  out  of  regard  for  and 
not  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  the  kindly  pair  who  had  taken 
them  in. 

In  the  morning,  early,  McAndrew  and  Maguire  clambered 
down  the  ladder  and.  awakened  the  rest  with  demands  for 


268  PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES. 


beer.  They  were  very  thirsty.  McKenna  arose,  gave  the 
old  lady  her  clothes,  and  she  was  soon  ready  to  wait  upon 
them.  The  detective  noticed  that  she  took  her  half  gallon 
measure  from  beneath  the  foot  of  her  bed,  threw  something 
that  it  contained  out  at  the  door,  and  then  filled  it  half  full 
of  beer  from  the  keg.  But  he  said  nothing  of  this  to  his 
companions. 

“I  belave  I’ll  take  a sip  o’  gin,”  said  the  Secretary,  as  the 
Bodyniaster  and  Maguire,  in  turn,  drank  deeply  of  the  malt 
liquor.  “ 1 always  try  and  get  gin  for  my  morning  dram  ! ” 

This  liquor  was  in  a small  bottle  and  clear  and  genuine. 
The  beer  he  could  not  relish,  considering  the  use  to  which 
the  tin  vessel  in  which  it  stood  had  been  put  during  the 
night. 

It  was  not  until  they  had  reached  Shenandoah  that  Mc- 
Kenna informed  his  comrades  of  the  sickening  circumstance. 
Their  stomachs  were  in  such  a peculiarly  sensitive  condition 
at  the  time,  that  a few  explanatory  words  caused  them  to 
revolt.  As  a consequence  both  men  were  very  sick.  “ Sea- 
sickness was  no  name  for  it,”  they  said. 

It  chanced  well  for  McKenna  that,  on  this  very  day,  and 
before  Maguire  and  McAndrew  recovered  their  appetites 
and  their  strength,  he  was  compelled  to  go  to  another  part 
of  the  county  and  remain  during  several  nights.  When  he 
returned  Maguire  was  away  at  his  home  and  McAndrew  had 
forgiven  him. 

“ Faith,  an’  ye  know  well  enough,  it  would  have  been 
both  mane  an’  uncivil  for  me  to  say  anythin’  of  it  before  the 
kind  old  couple  ! ” was  all  the  excuse  the  operative  could 
offer.  Not  one  of  the  three  men  drank  ale  at  Mike  Casey’s 
house  after  that. 

There  was  little  of  interest  occurring  in  the  region  from 
the  dates  last  mentioned,  until  early  in  the  spring  of  1875, 
when  the  Mollies  determined  to  destroy  the  bridges  on  the 
Catawissa  Railway,  then  as  now  run  by  the  Philadelphia  and 


PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES.  269 

Reading  Company.  The  reason  given  by  Pat  Brennan,  one 
of  the  prime  movers  in  the  business,  for  the  proposed  out- 
rage, was  that  considerable  coal  passed  to  market  over  the 
Catawissa  line,  and  it  would  be  necessary  to  stop  shipments 
as  well  as  production  in  that  portion  of  country.  McAndrew, 
of  Shenandoah,  and  Pat  Butler,  of  Loss  Creek,  were  ex- 
pected to  furnish  the  force  of  Mollies,  and  Brennan  was  to 
secure  an  equal  number  of  men  from  outside  sources.  The 
several  high  and  ' costly  structures  were  to  be  set  on  fire 
simultaneously,  after  all  trains  had  passed  over,  so  that  life 
would  not  be  endangered.  Brennan,  found  picking  coal  at 
Glover’s  dirt  bank,  was  not  a Mollie,  but  bad  enough  to  be 
one.  JVfcKenna  went  to  see  him,  pretending  great  anxiety 
to  have  a hand  in  the  matter,  at  the  order  of  McAndrew. 
Brennan  implicated  two  brothers,  named  Welch,  with  many 
others,  and  said  one  meeting  had  already  been  held  on  the 
subject,  by  his  friends,  in  the  bush,  but  nothing  had  been 
permanently  decided  upon.  Another  gathering  was  appointed 
for  the  ensuing  Tuesday  night,  to  be  attended  by  Mollies 
and  outsiders,  and  the  detective  was  invited  to  be  present. 
He  consented.  McHugh  was  opposed  to  the  project.  Gib- 
bons was  greatly  in  favor  of  it.  In  a conversation  held  with 
the  latter,  the  detective  said  : 

It  is  a big  job,  ye  understand,  an’  it  will  take  a good 
many  men  to  do  the  thing.  They  must  be  as  true  as  steel, 
at  that.” 

“ I know  it,”  answered  Gibbons.  “An’  are  not  the  Hiber- 
nians the  men  who  can  be  depended  upon  ? They  can  do  it, 
" if  anybody  can.” 

“ I know  we’re  all  right — but  we’re  not  alone.  We  can’t 
possibly  arrange  everything  so  as  to  act  before  next  Wednes- 
day night.” 

“ That’s  the  truth  ! ” responded  Gibbons. 

This  was  urged  in  order  to  gain  time  in  which  to  notify 
Mr.  Franklin,  so  that,  if  McKenna  might  not  succeed  in  dis- 


2/0  PLOT  TO  DESTROY  CATAWISSA  BRIDGES. 


couraging  the  Mollies  and  preventing  the  destructive  effort, 
a force  could  be  sent  to  capture  the  would-be  incendiaries 
before  the  match  had  done  its  duty.  It  was  finally  decided 
that  a second  meeting  should  be  held  the  ensuing  Tuesday 
night,  at  nine  o’clock,  at  Number  Three  Hill,  when  the  de- 
tails should  be  attended  to,  and  quickly  following  that  should 
come  the  destruction  of  the  obnoxious  bridges.  The  follow- 
ing evening — Wednesday — all  were  expected  to  convene 
at  Ringtown  Mountain,  near  the  Catholic  cemetery,  duly 
equipped  for  work,  and,  after  brief  consultation,  at  once  jw- 
ceed  to  do  the  task  proposed.  Axes  and  other  tools  were  to 
be  procured  and  brought  to  the  second  meeting,  with  plenty 
of  powder  and  fuses  for  exploding  some  of  the  heavier  abut- 
ments. 

The  detective  afterward  saw  Pat  Butler,  and  informed  him 
of  the  proposed  affair.  Butler  was  inclined  to  be  cautious. 
He  fully  approved  the  business,  but  feared  the  outsiders 
might  harm  the  Mollies — in  other  words,  inform  against  them 
— and  wanted  every  one  specially  sworn  to  secrecy.  He 
knew  very  well  that  there  would  be  a large  reward  offered 
for  the  capture  of  those  interested  in  destroying  the  bridges, 
and  believed  those  not  in  the  society  would  be  the  first 
to  sell  out.  This  was  in  Me  Andrew’s  presence.  The 
Shenandoah  Bodymaster  thought  it  made  little  difference 
whether  the  men  were  sworn  or  not,  as  they  gave  away 
secrets  held  under  oath  about  as  freely  as  when  not  bound 
by  an  obligation.  A pledge  would  not  stop  them  from  in- 
forming, if  they  were  so  disposed.  John  Thompson,  of  Num- 
ber Three  Hill,  and  John  Dean,  said  they  agreed  to  the 
arrangement,  would  attend  the  meeting,  and  provide  some 
powder.  There  was  no  way  for  the  detective  except  to  go 
in  with  the  incendiaries.  In  no  other  manner  could  he  learn 
the  exact  time  when  the  deed  was  to  be  committed ; in  no 
other  way  was  the  thing  to  be  prevented  and  the  would-be 
bridge-burners  apprehended.  There  was  danger  that  he 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


271 


might  be  captured  with  the  rest,  or  killed ; but  the  damage 
to  the  company,  in  case  the  game  was  not  frustrated,  would 
be  very  great,  beside  the  loss  of  life  to  innocent  passengers, 
who  would,  if  the  bridges  were  destroyed  at  the  time  pro- 
posed, some  of  them,  be  hurled,  without  a word  of  warning, 
into  eternity.  These  were  among  the  nigh  probabilities. 
The  detective  could  but  run  the  hazard.  Certainly,  he  must 
keep  in  with  the  conspirators,  and  see  that  his  whole  duty 
was  performed. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 

Mr.  Franklin  was,  the  same  evening,  duly  instructed 
where  the  detective  intended  to  be  the  next  night  and  in- 
formed of  the  probability  that  he  would  succeed  in  frustrating 
the  designs  of  the  bridge-burners,  at  even  the  last  moment, 
as  he  had  his  own  plans,  should  there  come  a failure  in 
creating  a disturbance  which  would  result  in  a disbandment 
of  the  two  forces  engaged  in  the  matter — the  Mollies,  as  well 
as  non-Mollies.  The  agent  also  suggested  and  described  a 
medium  through  which  the  Superintendent  might  communi- 
cate with  him,  by  telegraph,  before  the  arrival  of  the  decisive 
time,  should  he  find  it  important  to  do  so.  Up  to  the  hour 
of  leaving  Shenandoah,  to  attend  the  Tuesday  night  meeting 
in  the  bush,  however,  no  telegram  came,  hence  McKenna 
knew  that  he  was  entrusted  with  the  entire  management  of 
his  side  of  the  transaction,  the  Agency  being  left  to  take 
care  of  the  other. 

Tuesday,  April  6,  1875,  came,  bright  and  cloudless,  as 
though  dark  desires  and  hellish  passions  were  not  swaying 
the  human  breast,  and  danger  threatening  the  lives  of  those 


272 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


who  reveled  in  the  clear  sunlight  of  the  present,  buoyant  and 
" hopeful  for  the  future.  Passing  the  day  in  talking  with  the 
principal  Mollies  interested  in  the  bridge  enterprise,  the 
Secretary  started,  at  about  eight  in  the  evening,  accompanied 
by  Pat  Butler — who  still  seemed  determined  to  wait  and  learn 
what  the  outsiders  had  to  say  about  the  thing  before  he  com- 
mitted himself  and  his  division  to  the  scheme — for  the  place 
on  the  verge  of  the  mountain.  Butler  was  more  than  half 
inclined,  the  Shenandoah  Secretary  was  pleased  to  see,  to  let 
the  outsiders  have  the  plot  their  own  way  and  allow  the  same 
parties  to  perform  the  work  of  destruction  by  themselves. 
McAndrew,  who  soon  joined  Butler  and  McKenna,  was  also 
averse  to  receiving  any  assistance  from  those  not  within  the 
order.  Still  all  were  agreed  to  attend  the  preliminary  meet- 
ing, hence  they  gathered,  under  the  starlight,  at  Number 
Three  Hill, 

McKenna  was  not  afraid  of  the  outside  citizens  executing 
the  job,  unaided,  after  having  fully  disclosed  their  ideas  to 
the,  Mollies,  and  was  equally  certain  that  the  brotherhood 
would  refuse  to  do  it  under  similar  circumstances,  hence  his 
obvious  labor  was  to  foment  division,  and  make  its  perform- 
ance impossible  for  either  party.  This  he  proceeded  to  do, 
and  found  it  no  easy  task.  Strong  words  had  to  be  employed 
with  the  Mollies,  most  of  whom  were  greatly  in  favor  of  the 
undertaking,  to  make  them  willing  to  abandon  it.  His  ]jrin- 
cipal  reliance  he  found  to  be  the  jealousy  of  the  society 
regarding  the  interference  of  all  other  combinations,  and  its 
disinclination  to  join  in  an  overt  act  with  people  not  mem- 
bers. Using  this  as  h\s  piece  de  resistance.^  in  the  commence- 
ment, he  added  to  it,  from  time  to  time,  such  suggestive  in- 
cidents as  came  to  mind. 

“ Pll  go  to  the  divil,  or  just  anywhere,”  he  said,  ^Svith 
the  right  sort  of  people,  but  these  strangers  Pm  not  so  quick 
to  follow  ! I’m  forninst  colloguin’  wid  men  not  known  to 
be  friends.” 


77/c’  scene  at  .Ynniher  Ihree  Ilill . 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


273 


“So  am  I !”  said  Pat  Butler,  a hardy  little  fellow,  with 
black  hair,  a keen  eye,  and  a look  of  resolution  on  his  sharp 
face. 

“And  I,”  echoed  McAndrew. 

The  scene  presented  at  Number  Three  Hill  was  impress- 
ive, but  almost  shrouded  in  darkness.  Seated  on  rocks, 
bits  of  logs,  and  heaps  of  earth,  and  leaning  against  the 
bodies  of  stunted  trees,  the  men  were  grouped,  recognizing 
each  odier  by  their  shapes  * and  the  sound  of  their  voices. 
The  stars  gave  just  light  enough,  at  that  hour  and  season  of 
the  year,  to  make  human  faces  and  figures  dimly  visible. 

Brennan,  who  had  been  so  forward  in  the  inception  of  the 
job,  hearing,  early  in  the  day,  from  a voluntary  emissary  of 
McKenna,  that  Shenandoah  Division  was  greatly  opposed  to 
the  joint  movement,  did  not  make  his  appearance  at  Number 
Three  on  that  particular  evening,  nor  did  any  of  the  non- 
Mollies,  who  had  been  promised,  assemble  at  the  spot.  The 
following  persons  were  there  : John  Thompson,  John  Dean, 
Pat  Butler,  John  Gibbons,  Frank  McAndrew,  Fenton  Coo- 
ney, Mike  Doyle,  Ed  Sweeney,  Mike  Casey,  Chas.  Hayes, 
Mike  Murphy,  Pat  Whalen,  and  James  McKenna. 

Not  a pipe  was  smoked  in  that  silent  conclave.  Men 
spoke  in  whispers,  and  moved  with  stealthy  tread,  for  fear 
that  a spark  of  fire  or  loud  word  might  disclose  the  wherea-  * 
bouts  of  the  conspirators.  McKenna  stood  among  the  rest, 
leaning  against  the  trunk  of  a tree,  expecting  every  moment 
to  hear  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  announcing  the 
arrival  of  the  allies  of  the  Mollies  ; but  in  this  way  an  hour 
passed  and  nobody  came  ; then,  as  silently  as  they  had  come 
together,  the  crowM  dispersed,  and  the  enterprise  was  a 
pronounced  failure. 

At  McHale’s  saloon,  in  Shenandoah,  • an  hour  later,  the 
i principal  Mollies  reconvened,  in  a convivial  way,  when,  no 
. others  being  present,  drinks  were  procured  and  all  pledged 
themselves  never  to  have  anything  to  do  with  business  of  a 
* 12* 


274 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


serious  character  when  any  outsider  was  to  be  interested. 
Especially  were  they  to  refuse  co-operation  where  they 
themselves  were  not  the  persons  to  plan  an  entire  move- 
ment. 

The  same  night  Gibbons  informed  McKenna  that  he  had 
been  several  days  trying  to  induce  Thompson,  of  Number 
Three  Hill,  to  aid  him  in  a plan  by  which  the  company — 
the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company — 
would  be  greatly  injured.  The  idea  was  to  go,  in  the  dark, 
and  run  a loaded  truck,  then  standing  at  Grover’s  Breaker, 
down  the  railroad  track,  when  a train  would  be  coming  from 
an  opposite  direction.  It  must  then  occur  that  the  train, 
locomotive  and  cars,  would  come  in  collision  with  the  coal 
car  and  all  be  smashed  in  pieces.  Thompson  had  thus  far 
refused,  as  he  was  sure  that  the  engineer,  fireman,  and  brake- 
men,  and  possibly  others,  would  be  killed.  Beside  he 
thought  the  engine  -might  naturally  be  crowded  with  work- 
men, returning  to  their  homes,  and  he  was  not  favorable 
to  killing  innocent  persons  merely  in  order  to  spite  one  cor- 
poration. Gibbons  argued  that  the  train  *would  not  be 
thrown  off,  only  the  truck  smashed,  track  torn  up,  and  con- 
sequent delay  in  shipping  coal  insured. 

Here  was  another  thing  that  the  detective  must  have  an 
eye  upon.  It  added  to  the  now  constant  pressure  upon  his 
mind.  The  elements  were  around.  Violence  was  in  the 
air.  McKenna  should  have  a care  for  himself,  and  for  the 
great  purpose  of  all  his  thoughts  and  acts.  He  knew  not 
what  the  morrow  might  bring  forth. 

At  this  time  it  was  calculated  by  those  who  had  every 
facility  for  knowing,  that  there  were  thirty  thousand  mem- 
bers of  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians — otherwise  the 
Mollie  Maguires — in  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  and,  in  the 
county  of  Schuylkill  alone,  where  my  agents  were  most 
actively  operating,  some  two  thousand  five  hundred.  These 
figures  may  be  exaggerated,  or  may  not,  but  it  is  undoubtedly 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


275 


true  that  there  were  enough  in  the  Commonwealth  to  carry 
the  elections  and  to  produce  wide-spread  terror  in  the  coal 
regions.  So  invincible  was  their  power,  that  they  had  but 
to  say  the  word  and  a priceless  life  was  thenceforth  worth  no 
more  than  the  powder  burnt  in  its  destruction.  The  County 
Delegate,  Kehoe,  needed  only  to  crook  his  little  finger  or 
call  upon  the  officers  of  any  adjoining  county  for  help,  in  any 
nefarious  undertaking,  and  it  was  forthcoming.  From  the 
assassination  of  a man  to  the  burning  of  a breaker,  or  the 
whipping  of  a boss  who  refused  to  obey  an  order  to  leave  the 
country,  he  had  but  to  command  to  be  obeyed.  The  same 
rule  applied — only  not  to  so  wide  an  extent — with  the  Body- 
masters  of  the  different  divisions.  Over  their  subordinates 
these  officials  exercised  complete  control.  Sometimes,  it 
was  true,  as  in  the  matter  of  Corner  James,  at  Shenandoah, 
the  members  undertook  to  lead.  But  in  McAndrew  the 
vengeful  McHugh  and  Hurley  found  their  match.  He,  when 
repeatedly  urged,  even  as  late  as  the  first  of  May,  1875, 
utterly  refused  to  have  anything  done,  ending  all  cavil  by 
once  more  promising  that,  when  the  resumption  came — if 
ever  it  did  come — and  the  attention  of  the  people  would  be 
diverted  from  their  society,  he  would  get  the  men  from 
Northumberland  County  and  have  the  Welshman  silenced. 
Finding  that  they  had  not  sufficient  force  at  command  to  put 
him  out,  the  bloodthirsty  trio  were  compelled  to  wait. 
That  is,  for  a time,  they  did  wait,  and  McAndrew  still  re^ 
mained  at  the  head  of  affairs. 

Considering  the  increasing  turbulence  prevailing  in  the 
coal  country,  and  the  rapid  accumulation  of  crime  since  the 
dullness  in  the  mining  business  had  set  in,  I,  at  this  time, 
deemed  it  advisable  to  visit  Philadelphia,  and  hold  a consul- 
tation with  Mr.  Franklin  and  McParlan,  alias  McKenna. 
This  was,  therefore,  accomplished  on  the  28th  of  April, 
1875.  After  talking  the  matter  over  with  Mr.  Franklin,  and 
fully  exchanging  views  as  to  the  future,  Mr.  F.  B.  Gowen, 


2^6 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


President  of  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway,  and  of 
the  Coal  and  Iron  Company  of  the  same  name,  was  sent 
for.  He  was  ill  at  the  time,  but  came  promptly,  and  we  held 
a long  and  absorbing  talk  with  him  in  my  private  parlor. 
The  work  of  the  past  two  years  was  passed  in  review,  sup- 
ported by  copies  of  the  reports  from  the  Philadeljjhia 
Agency,  and  much  said  about  the  task  remaining  to  be  per- 
formed, having  in  sight  the  early  breaking  up  of  the  power- 
ful Mollie  organization.  From  all  we  had  heard,  the  society 
was  now  more  powerful  than  ever  before.  Its  numbers 
were  rapidly  increasing,  its  work  becoming  more  desperate. 
Evidently  something  must  be  entered  upon  that  would  have 
the  effect  of  reducing  the  latter,  and  ending  the  bloody  deeds 
of  the  monsters  who  were  deliberately  planning  to  sacrifice 
human  life  and  millions  of  property. 

Mr.  Gowen  was  disposed  to  defer  to  my  judgment  in  the 
business,  knowing  that,  for  many  months,  I had  made  a study 
of  the  society,  its  rules  and  modus  operafidi  in  accomplishing 
its  sanguinary  purposes.  He  believed  that  I could  best  sug- 
gest the  plot  for  the  coming  campaign,  which  everything  por- 
tended was  to  be  a bitter  one. 

Mr.  Gowen,”  said  I,  upon  receiving  this  information, 
“ I wish,  in  this  connection,  to  ask  you  a legal  question. 
Should  I bring  to  the  State  a number  of  my  operatives, 
and  have  them  sworn  in  as  Coal  and  Iron  Police,  under 
General  Pleasants,  and  if  they,  in  consequence  of  reports 
received  through  detective  McParlan,  were  to  go  to  a 
certain  locality  and  there  make  the  arrest  of  persons  in  the 
act  of  committing  crimes,  would  they  be  compelled  subse- 
quently to  reveal  the  source  of  their  knowledge  ? That  is, 
can  such  service  be  performed  without  at  present  uncover- 
ing McParlan  to  the  Mollie  Maguires  ? ” 

I was  anxious  that  McParlan — otherwise  the  good  Mollie, 
James  McKenna — should  remain  mcognito  for  as  great  a 
length  of  time  as  possible,  and  when  no  longer  useful  in  this 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


277 


way,  to  be  secretly  removed  to  some  safe  place,  as  I was 
aware  of  the  fact  that,  without  his  voluntary  consent,  his  testi- 
mony in  convicting  the  Mollies  could  not  be  used.  I had 
])ledged  him  my  word  for  that,  and  was  not  the  man  to 
change,  whatever  consequences  might  impend. 

Mr.  Gowen  replied  : 

“It  will  not  be  actually  necessary  to  disclose  our  source 
of  information  ! ’’ 

“ Veiy  well,”  I added.  “ I am  pleased  that  it  is  so  ! This 
being  settled,  I will  have  a good  and  trusted  employe  sent 
here  from  Chicago,  with  orders  to  go  thoroughly  through  the 
country  and  over  the  ground,  secure  an  understanding  of  the 
localities  in  which  it  is  supposed  outrages  may  be  committed, 
and  select  a proper  rendezvous  for  such  persons  as  he 
may  need  for  his  support.  At  this  point,  McPaiian,  alias 
McKenna,  can  send  to  or  give  them  such  information  as  he 
may  secure,  in  time  for  the  prevention  of  crime  or  the  cap- 
ture, in  the  very  act,  of  its  perpetrators.  I want  five  or  six 
of  my  best  and  most  resolute  attaches.,  with  an  equal  number 
of  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police,  who  have  been  duly  tried  and 
found  fearless  and  capable,  placed  under  control  of  the 
chief  operative  who  may  be  sent,  thus  forming  a company 
of  twelve,  to  be  at  all  times  at  command,  to  prevent  murders 
and  act  upon  such  suggestions  as  Messrs.  Franklin ’and  MePar- 
lan  may  furnish.  I think,  in  due  season,  we  may  succeed  in 
breaking  up  this  body  of  assassins  and  cut-throats,  and,  in 
the  course  of  a few  months,  perform  labor  which  will  strike 
terror  even  to  the  black  heart  of  the  organization  ! ” 

“ Anything  and  everything  that  we  can  legally  give,  you 
shall  have  ! I suggest  Capt.  Heisler,  who  has  been  Chief  of 
the  Coal  and  Iron  Police,  as  your  lieutenant  from  that 
force.  He  is  an  intelligent  and  courageous  man,  familiar 
with  the  topography  of  the  entire  locality,  and  the  most 
suitable  officer  I can  select  for  the  duty.  When  you  are 
ready  for  work,  let  us  know,  and  he  and  a picked  six  of  the 


278 


A CA  LAM  IT  Y A VER  TED. 


police  shall  be  ordered  to  report  to  your  local  Superinten- 
dent. We  must  also  communicate  with  General  Pleasants, 
who,  as  chief  engineer,  is  General  Superindendent  of  the 
Coal  and  Iron  Police,  and  he  will  see  that  your  agents  are 
sworn  in  and  made  regular  members  of  the  corps.  As  for 
the  details,  and  the  management,  I leave  them,  as  hereto- 
fore, wholly  in  your  hands,  and  will  approve  all  suggestions 
made  by  you  ! ” 

I thanked  Mr.  Gowen  for  the  confidence  still  reposed  in 
me,  and  said  I would  endeavor  to  be  worthy  of  it. 

“ I will  at  once  telegraph  to  Chicago,”  I concluded,  “ for 
the  men  needed,  and  proceed  to  their  organization.  When 
prepared,  1 will  consult  you  again.” 

Mr.  Go  wen  then  left,  and  I summoned  McParlan  to  meet 
me.  I was  somewhat  surprised  to  observe  the  change  that 
two  years  had  wrought  in  the  appearance  of  my  operative. 
While  there  was  no  doubt  that  once  more  I grasped  McPar- 
lan by  the  hand,  yet  I could  scarcely  bring  myself  to  be- 
lieve it.  The  voice  was  familiar,  and  the  eye,  but  all  beside 
seemed  different.  Much  of  this  transformation  was  proba- 
bly owing  to  out-door  exposure,  the  hard  life  he  had  lived, 
and  the  yellow  wig,  which  he  had  been  constrained  to  use 
after  the  loss  of  his  hair.  I was  glad  to  see  that  his  general 
health  was  quite  sound  again,  and  the  young  man  still-  strong 
and  hopeful  for  the  success  of  his  undertaking.  Dressed 
once  more,  for  a few  hours  at  least,  in  his  former  decent 
habiliments,  and  having  taken  a bath  and  enjoyed  some 
manipulations  in  the  barber’s  chair,  with  a dressing  down  of 
the  artificial  head-covering,  he  seemed  more  like  his  former 
self,  and  we  held  a long  and  profitable  interview,  during 
which  he  related,  much  more  graphically  than  I can  describe, 
some  of  the  incidents  of  his  life  among  the  Mollies  which 
I have  woven  into  the  warp  and  woof  of  this  narration. 

A dispatch,  purporting  to  come  from  McKenna’s  sister, 
saying  she  was  to  be  married,  and  wanting  him  to  come  to 


A CALAMITY  AVERTED. 


279 


the  wedding,  had  been  sent,  as  per  arrangement,  preparatory 
to  the  meeting  with  me,  demanding  the  detective’s  presence 
at  the  Agency. 

McParlan’s  sister  was  not  married,  but  I wanted  to  see 
him  ; this  he  distinctly  understood,  but  his  friends  in  Shen- 
andoah did  not.  It  rested  with  the  detective  to  answer  all 
the  questions  that  Me  Andrew,  Lawler,  and  the  rest  of  the 
Mollies  might  ask  him  regarding  the  nuptials  and  how  he 
enjoyed  himself.  I knew  he  was  capable  of  inventing  stories, 
when  XDn  detective  duty,  which  would  hang  together  and 
satisfy  all  his  acquaintances.  That  night,  with  a lighter 
heart  and  vigorous  determination  to  labor  for  the  extinction 
of  the  hateful  clan,  McKenna  bid  me  adieu  and  returned  to 
his  former  headquarters. 

He  told  McAndrew  a fine  tale  about  the  magnificence  of 
his  sister’s  wedding,  the  name  of  her  husband,  the  articles 
comprising  the  bridal  siqiper,  the  brands  of  champagne  and 
wines  they  consumed,  with  other  particulars  too  minute  for 
use  in  these  pages.  He  ended  by  saying  that  he  had  met 
his  old  partner  in  the  “ queer  ” business,  and  made  a raise 
of  enough  money  to  last  him  for  some  time — a large  balance 
having  been  invested  in  a speculation  in  the  city,  from  which 
he  was  to  hear  regularly  by  letter.  This  last  item  of  infor- 
mation,- as  he  expected  it  would,  reached  the  post-office 
within  the  course  of  a few  days,  and  at  once  relieved  the 
mind  of  the  delivery  clerk  as  to  a man  of  McKenna’s  char- 
acter keeping  up  such  an  extended  correspondence.  The 
aforesaid  clerk  would  have  told  the  public  nothing,  at  any 
rate,  but  it  was  just  as  well  to  have  his  thoughts  at  rest  on 
the  subject.  And,  as  the  detective  might  have  occasion  to 
spend  money  more  freely,  he  felt  compelled  to  make  an 
early  exhibit  of  the  source  from  whence  the  cash  came. 

In  the  meantime  the  Annual  County  Convention  had 
been  held,  and  Kehoe  duly  elected  County  Delegate,  hav- 
ing, until  the  occurrence  of  that  event,  been  holding  the 


28o 


NEJV  FO/^CES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


office  under  appointment  of  the  State  branch  of  the  order. 
Now  Kehoe  was  King  of  the  Mollies  in  Schujdkill,  in  fact 
as  well  as  in  name.  The  wily  fellow  had  accomplished  his 
purpose.  We  shall  see  what  he  did  with  his  power. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

NEW  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 

In  casting  about  me  for  a chief  assistant  of  Mr.  ITanklin 
and  co-worker  with  McParlan,  in  the  coal  country,  I was 
quick  in  deciding  that  the  very  man,  of  all  others  among  my 
large  number  of  operatives,  was  Robert  J.  Linden,  then  of 
Chicago,  a gentleman  who  had  long  been  connected  with  the 
Agency,  and  in  whose  courage,  judgment,  and  discretion  I 
could  place  implicit  reliance,  and  this  from  the  reason  that 
all  of  these  qualities  were  united  in  his  mind  and  body,  and 
had  “received  abundant  trial  during  the  -time  he  had  remained 
in  my  service.  Capt.  Linden  was  eminently  qualihed  to 
assume  a leading  part  in  such  a hazardous  undertaking  as  we 
were  to  enter  upon  in  Pennsylvania.  A man  of  attractive 
personal  appearance,  captivating  address,  great  energy  and 
perseverance,  and  with  more  than  ordinary  powers  of  per- 
ception, I knew  he  would  make  an  excellent  open  operator, 
when  the  time  might  arrive  for  that  kind  of  business.  About 
forty  years  of  age,  tall,  powerful  in  frame  and  physical  organi- 
zation, with  black,  close-curling  hair,  whiskers  and  mustache 
of  the  same  texture  and  color,  blue  eyes,  which  were  expres- 
sive of  confidence,  and  just  the  kind  of  orbs  to  win  the  con- 
fidence of  others.  Linden  was  a person  who  could  ably  com- 
mand my  coal  police.  A native  of  Pennsylvania ; at  an 


JVEW  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


281 


early  day  a ship  carpenter  by  trade  ; possessed  of  a fair  edu- 
cation and  many  c[iialities  of  head  and  heart  to  entitle  him  to 
esteem  and  regard,  1 wished  for  no  better  man.  He  had 
performed  labor  for  the  Philadelphia  office  previous  to  1871, 
was  then  detailed  to  Chicago,  and  engaged  in  the  responsible 
l)osition  of  Lieutenant  on  my  local  Preventive  Watch.  So 
well  did  he  perform  his  duty  there,  that  when  my  son  Wil- 
liam, several  years  since,  went  to  Europe  on  business  of  the 
Agency,  I appointed  Linden  to  temporarily  fill  his  place  in 
the  detective  corps.  He  was  yet  acting  as  an  Assistant 
Superintendent,  and  permanently  located,  with  his  estimable 
family,  in  Chicago.  The  only  cause  of  hesitation  that  I felt 
in  returning  him  to  Pennsylvania,  was  found  in  the  separa- 
tion from  his  wife  and  children  that  must  necessarilv  ensue. 
■Still,  no  other  officer  that  I could  spare  from  the  west  would 
fill  the  position  so  well,  and  he  was  therefore  directed  to  re- 
port in  Philadelphia  at  once.  Plis  experience  in  the  navy, 
during  the  late  war,  had  given  him  confidence  and  coolness 
under- trying  circumstances,  with  capacity  for  the  training  and 
management  of  bodies  of  men,  and  I was  certain  that  there 
would  be  no  needless  delay  in  making  his  appearance,  ready 
and  willing  to  perform  his  task.  Nor  was  I disappointed. 
Linden  soon  reached  Philadelphia,  accompanied  by  a detail- 
of  six  stalwart  men — partly  chosen  from  the  Chicago  Preven- 
tive Watch,  and  partly  from  the  Detective  Department — and 
there  received  his  orders  and  instructions.  Without  resting 
a single  day,  he  entered  upon  his  labors,  taking  the  cars  for 
Pottsville,  Friday,  the  sixth  of  May,  1875.  Once  in  that 
city,  where  he  arrived  a little  after  noon,  he  took  his  men  to 
the  Merchant’s  Hotel,  directing  them  to  remain  and  await  his 
return,  and  then  hunted  out  General  Pleasants,  to  whom  he 
delivered  his  letter  of  introduction.  The  General  received 
him  cordially  and  at  once  sent  for  Mr.  Heisler.  A long 
consultation  between  the  three  men  ensued,  during  which 
plans  were  exhaustively  discussed  and  arrangements  carefully 


282 


JV^IV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


made  to  cover  every  conceivable  condition  of  affairs.  Then 
followed  the  induction  of  the  men  1 had  sent  into  the 
Coal  and  Iron  Police,  which  ceremony  transpired  at  the 
court-house  and  consisted  in  taking  the  usual  oath  of  office. 
After  this  the  six  officers  parted  company,  according  to 
orders,  going  in  pairs,  in  different  directions,  with  strict  in- 
structions to  make  their  headquarters  at  a certain  place,  and 
then  survey  carefully  their  field  of  operations,  gaining,  by 
actual  experience,  a correct  knowledge  of  the  shape  and 
character  of  the  country,  the  towns,  villages,  patches,  collier- 
ies, creeks  and  rivers,  mountains  and  ravines,  so  that,  in  the 
performance  of  their  work,  they  might  have  no  trouble  in 
finding  their  route,  without  inquiry,  from  one  place  to 
another,  even  in  the  darkness  of  night.  Two  men  were  sent 
to  Locust  Run,  two  to  Boston  Colliery,  and  two  to  Tunnel 
Colliery.  Mr.  Linden  received  a commission,  showing  that 
he  was  given  full  control  of  these  policemen.  Among  the 
arrangements  was  a cipher  for  communicating  with  General 
Pleasants,  and  badges  for  the  men  to  wear.  Mr.  Linden — 
or  Captain  Linden,  as  he  was  soon  to  be  called — made  a 
visit  to  Ashland  on  the  eighth,  where  he  tarried  for  several  days 
gaining  such  information  as  might  prove  of  value  during  the 
summer.  At  Ashland,  on  the  fourteenth,  he  was  introduced 
to  his  assistants,  chosen  from  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police,  by 
Mr.  Heisler,  and  found  them  of  the  right  class,  the  majority 
having  served  with  honor  as  soldiers  during  the  war. 

Soon  afterward  the  Captain  was  made  acquainted  with 
Barney  Dolan,  of  Big  Mine  Run,  which  is  not  far  from 
Ashland. 

In  the  meantime,  McKenna  had  visited  Ashland,  and 
meeting  Linden  privately  at  a hotel,  they  adjourned  to  a 
place  where  they  conversed  over  a social  glass  of  beer.  It 
did  not  consume  many  minutes  to  agree  upon  a means  of 
communication  and  a point  in  the  bush  where,  the  proper 
signal  being  given  by.  either  party,  they  might  subsequently 


NSIV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


283 


meet  and  hold  private  discourse.  It  was  so  fixed  that  one 
could  send  a letter  to  the  other  without  the  possibility  of 
any  third  person  suspecting  their  correspondence.  There 
was  only  one  thing  that  seemed  impossible  to  be  provided 
for  and  guarded  against.  This  was  the  necessity  existing 
for  Linden  suddenly  going  from  place  to  place,  as  the  acts 
of  the  Mollies  might  demand.  All  they  were  enabled  to  do 
in  this  regard  was  to  promise  to  write  each  other,  as  often  as 
it  would  be  prudent,  and  plainly  set  forth  the  spot  removing 
to,  at  as  early  an  hour  as  practicable.  McKenna  would 
hardly  know  in  advance  when  he  might  need  Linden,  and 
Linden  would  probably  be  unable  to  say,  should  violence 
and  outrage  continue  to  increase,  where  he  might  be  most  in 
demand.  Still,  every  precaution  was  taken  to  have  their 
whereabouts  known  one  to  the  other.  After  their  meeting, 
McKenna  returned  to  his  friends  and  Linden  to  his  head- 
quarters. 

To  go  back  a few  days  : On  the  third  of  May,  and  sub- 

sequent to  McKenna’s  first  council  with  Idnden,  the  former 
took  the  train  for  Pottsville,  where  he  was  under  promise  to 
meet  County  Delegate  Kehoe.  Court  was  in  session,  and 
their  business,  connected  with  the  trial  of  Dan  Dougherty, 
for  killing  the  Chief  Burgess  of  Mahanoy  City,  resulted,  as 
before  stated,  in  the  defendant’s  acquittal.  Among  those 
that  the  detective  encountered  during  this  visit  were  Alex. 
Campbell,  of  Summit  Hill,  and  John  Gallagher,  with  many 
other  Mollie  Maguires,  all  of  whom  were  deeply  interested 
in  the  result  of  Dougherty’s  case.  There  was  great  rejoicing 
indulged  in,  and  much  drink  consumed,  when  their  friend 
secured  release.  He  was  quickly  taken  possession  of  by 
his  brother  Mollies,  and  in  their  company  made  a night  of 
it.  Schuylkill  County  Jail  was  voted  a good  place  for  most 
people,  but  for  a Mollie  past  endurance. 

The  return  of  Dougherty  to  Mahanoy  City,  an  event 
occurring  about  the  ninth  of  May,  was  made  remarkable  by 


284 


N/LPi^  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


a prompt  renewal  of  hostilities  between  the  lately  liberated 
man  and  Jesse  Major,  a brother  of  Dougherty’s  former 
victim.  Major  was  at  the  time  accompanied  by  Wm.  M. 
Thomas,  alias  “ Bully  Bill,”  a notorious  desperado,  who 
was  known  to  be  opposed  to  the  Mollies  and  always  ready 
to  pull. a revolver  and  shoot,  upon  the  slightest  possible 
provocation.  Dougherty  was  fired  upon  and  narrowly 
escaped  death.  Instead  of  calming  the  strife  between  the 
Welsh  and  Irish  miners,  this  encounter  added  fury  to  the 
fire,  and  it  raged  more  fiercely.  The  detective  heard  of  the 
circumstance  on  the  following  day,  and  made  up  his  niind 
that,  if  the  feud  was ^ kept  up,  it  could  be  but  a very  short 
time  before  Mahanoy  City  would  become  a modern 
Gehenna. 

In  the  meantime  John  Gibbons  brought  the  startling 
information  to  the  Mollies  of  Shenandoali,  one  morning, 
that  preparations  were  going  on,  looking  to  the  early  resump- 
tion of  work  by  the  surrounding  collieries,  and,  this  time, 
the  Coal  and  Iron  Company  seemed  determined  to  protect 
their  laborers  with  arms.  He  suggested  that  such  a course 
must  be  properly  met  by  the  Hibernians,  force  with  force. 
The  rumor  was,  that  the  company  had  already  stationed 
seven  heavily  armed  policemen  at  Plank  Ridge  Colliery, 
fourteen  at  West  Shenandoah  Colliery,  and  eleven  at  Indian 
Ridge  Colliery. 

‘‘And,”  said  Gibbons,  with  an  oath,  “the  next  thing  to 
be  done  is  for  the  boys  on  our  side  to  get  their  guns  ; for  I 
hear  that  these  new  police  are  all  armed  wid  repeating 
rifles.  If  Irish  miners  are  to  be  forced  into  open  war,  we 
will  at  least  have  suitable  arms  ! ” 

Gibbons  was  loudly  applauded  by  the  surrounding  Mol- 
lies, and  by  none  more  vociferously  than  by  Jim  McKenna, 
whose  enthusiasm  over  the  prospect  of  a fight  was  unreason- 
able and  knew  no  bounds. 

The  scene  of  warlike  operations,  judging  by  the  number 


NEW  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


285 


of  outrages  committed,  appeared  just  then  to  be  transferred 
to  parts  of  Columbia  and  Northumberland  Counties  ; hence, 
in  accordance  with  Mr.  Franklin’s  orders,  as  well  as  to  give 
Linden  a free  course  until  he  should  be  quite  familiar  with 
his  future  field  of  campaign,  McKenna  resolved  to  pa}^  a 
visit  to  Canning,  County  Delegate,  and  resume  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  Mollies  thereabouts,  with  whom  he  had  previ- 
ously made  himself  popular.  As  an  excuse  for  the  trip,  one 
day,  after  this  idea  was  fully  formed  in  his  mind,  he  gave  out 
to  Tom  Donahue,  brother  of  “Yellow  Jack  ” Donahue,  that 
he  had,  when  in  the  vicinity,  not  long»before,  formed  a great 
liking  for  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  celebrated  Pat  Hester. 
The  latter  was  known  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  clan,  as  far  as 
deviltry  was  concerned,  in  that  region.  Donahue  he  knew 
to  be  an'intimate  friendof  Hester,  quite  at  home  at  his  house, 
and,  McKenna  had  reason  to  believe,  knew  more  of  the  late 
I troubles  in  that  vicinity  than  some  living  in  more  close 
; neighborhood.  Therefore,  assuming  a sober  air,  the  opera- 
tive made  known  his  wish  to  go  to  see  Miss  Hester,  but  he 
was  rather  bashful,  and  did  not  exactly  know  how  to  accom- 
,plish  a fair  beginning  of  his  proposed  courtship.  He  told  his 
friend  Tom,  that  “ everything  depended  upon  a good  com- 
mencement.” This  was  assented  to  by  Donahue,  who  was 
on  a protracted  spree,  at  Girardville,  where  this  conversation 
occurred,  in  Jack  Kehoe’s  hotel. 

The  idea  of  the  devil-may-care  Jim  McKenna  having  expe- 
rienced a qualm  of  the  tender  passion  caused  Donahue  to 
smile,  but  the  confession  of  embarrassment  made  him  nearly 
go  into  convulsions  of  merriment.  Such  a thing  as  bashful- 
ness connected  with  McKenna — proverbial,  the  country 
over,  for  the  brassiness  of  his  entire  composition — was  alto- 
' gether  too  much  for  Donahue.  He  roar.ed  with  laughter,  bu! 
j soon  found  voice  to  exclaim  : 

’ “An’ is  it  yourself  that  ye  are,  or  some  cruddy  gorsoon, 
right  from  the  auld  sod  ? Be  me  sowl,*  I niver  entertained  a 


286 


NE IV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD, 


thought  that  ye  had  a shadow  of  bashfulness  in  your  whole 
body  until  this  minit ! ” 

“ Sure,”  answered  McKenna,  blushing  all  over  his  face, 
like  a verdant  boy  being  interrogated  by  a handsome  school- 
mistress, an’  I can’t  be  brass  through  and  through  ! There 
must  be  some  tenderness  in  a fellow — an’  mine  is  Pat  Hes- 
ter’s younger  daughter.  I’m  free  to  confess  it’s  a new  thing 
for  me,  but  there  must  be  a starting,  and  1 want  to  see  her ! 
I’m  not  much  acquainted  with  Pat,  her  father,  an’  what  I’m 
axin’  of  you  is  to  go  wid  me  to  his  house  an’  give  me  an 
introduction  to  the  whole  family.'  I’ll  trate  ye  well  if  ye’ll 
do  it ! ” 

“ Pve  only  been  away  from  there,  this  day’s  but  wan 
wake,”  responded  Donahue  ; “ beside,  I’m  out  of  money, 
an'*  can’t  get  enough  for  me  whisky,  let  alone  gallavantin’ 
around  like  a country  parson.  It  costs  cash  to  ride  on  the 
cars,  an’  I have  none  of  the  commodity,  good,  bad,  or  indif- 
ferent ! ” 

“That  nade  make  no  difference,”  returned  McKenna, 
“fur  I’ll  stand  the  expense  ! You  see  I’ve  had  good  luck  in 
a ‘ quare  ’ way,  lately,  an’  can  afford  a bit  of  a lark  ! Jist 
join  in  wid  me,  we’ll  go  to  Hester’s,  have  a good  time,  an’ 
be  back  here  in  a few  days  ! ” 

“ I promised  Jack  Kehoe  I’d  help  him  wid  his  garden 
fence;  but  I’ll  see!  If  he’ll  let  me  off,  I’m  yer  man,  an’ 
Pll  introduce  ye  to  Pat  Hester  and  all  the  young  Hesters 
wid  pleasure  1 ” 

Kehoe  was  glad  enough  to  get  rid  of  Donahue,  for  a 
while — though  he  might  have  particular  use  for  such  as  he  in 
a little  time — as  Tom  drank  more  whisky,  by  half,  than  would 
hire  a man  who  could  perform  twice  as  much  work.  So  the 
two  men  started. 

AVhile  e?i  7'oute^  after  having  swallowed  a few  drinks, 
Donahue  proved  very  loquacious,  and  wanted  to  tell  the 
detective  all  about  the  recent  destruction  of  Empire  Colliery, 


JVJSJV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


287 


near  Excelsior,  but  McKenna  gently  stopped  him,  saying  : 
“ It  is  a courtin’  we  are  goin’,  an’  not  to  a match  at  telling  long 
yarns ! ” This,  as  the  officer  had  expected,  only  aroused 
the  pugnacity  of  his  companion,  and  prompted  him,  from 
pure  obstinacy,  to  keep  up  the  conversation.  Once  more 
recurring  to  the  subject,  he  went  on — the  hearer  apparently 
absorbed  in  contemplation  of  the  happiness  in  store,  through 
sparking  Hester’s  daughter,  but,  in  reality,  noting  in  his 
mind  the  most  trivial  incident  Donahue  alluded  to — and  was 
telling,  not  only  of  burnings  in  which  he  had  been  engaged, 
but  in  pointing  out  those  yfet  to  be  consummated  in  the 
locality.  In  this  way  the  fellow  was  literally  pumped  dry. 
Occasionally  McKenna  would  interrupt  the  flow  of  criminal 
talk  with  : 

“But  phat  about  Pat  Hester’s  daughter  ? ” 

“ To  h — 1 wid  Pat  Hester’s  daughter  ! ” would  be  the 
impatient  reply  of  the  drunken  Mollie,  and  then  he  would 
proceed,  with  much  volubility  and  extravagance  of  gesture, 
to  unfold  a new  rascality,  tell  of  late  outrages,  and  who  had 
performed  them,  with  a detail  of  fact  and  incident  convinc- 
ing the  detective  that,  with  Donahue  at  least,  the  old  say- 
ing, in  vino  ve?'itas^  was  as  correct  in  modern  times  as  in 
the  days  of  Imperial  Rome,  for  the  more  whisky  Donahue 
drank  the  more  recklessly  he  sj^oke  the  truth,  and  the  more 
McKenna  opposed  his  thus  talking,  the  more  he  would 
insist  ‘upon  dwelling  on  the  very  topics  that  the  operative 
desired  to  hear  about.  In  this  way,  out  came  the  fact  of 
the  recent  burning  of  a bridge  at  the  junction,  when  the 
watchman  had  run  after  and  fired  upon  the  incendiaries. 
Donahue  confessed  to  having  burnt  the  telegraph  office  in 
the  neighborhood,  himself,  and  said  he  was  not  yet  through. 
In  several  of  the  deeds  he  was  not  a participant,  but  he 
knew  something  concerning  all  of  them  and  who  were  the 
real  perpetrators. 

When  the  cars  reached  Locust  Gap,  McKenna  and  his, 


288 


FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


by  this  time,  maudlin  companion,  alighted,  and  went  directly 
to  the  residence  of  Dennis  F.  Canning,  the  County.  Dele- 
gate of  Northumberland,  but  learned  from  Mrs.  Canning 
that  her  husband  was  absent,  in  Philadelphia,  on  business. 
They  could  not  remain  there,  so  adjourned  to  Scott’s  tavern, 
where  Donahue  soon  made  himself  ridiculous  by  quarreling 
with  everybody,  and  the  agent  was  pleased  to  lead  him  away 
on  the  road  to  Locust  Gap  Junction,  near  which  place 
Hester  resided.  After  a fatiguing  walk,  the  drunken  man 
rallied  a little  and  was  sufficiently  himself  to  point  out  cer- 
tain bridges  that  they  had  tried  hard  to  burn.  Donahue 
concluded,  from  their  ill  success,  that  kerosene  oil  was  not 
sufficient  for  setting  hre  to  heavy  timbers.  It  might  do  with 
small  trash,  but  utterly  failed  when  applied  to  large  beams 
and  girders.  The  watchman  at  this  bridge  was  a brother  of 
Mrs.  Hester,  and  Donahue  said  the  structure  would  yet  have 
to  go.  Had  not  the  powder  been  mismanaged  it  must  have 
met  destruction  some  weeks  before. 

At  this  period  another  well-timed  query  about  Miss  Hester 
set  Donahue’s  tongue  running  regarding  the  attack  on  Hel- 
fenstein’s,  or  Ben  Franklin  Breaker,  which  he  pointed  out. 

“ It  made  a devilish  fine  blaze  ! ” the  Mollie  said,  in  a tone 
of  exultation,  ‘^an’  the  cowardly  watchmen  made  no  show 
of  resistance  ! ” 

This  breaker,  after  repeated  notifications  to  its  owners 
that  it  was  in  danger,  had  been  left  to  the  care  of  one  or  two 
useless  and  cowardly  attendants,  and  was  leveled  to  the 
ground.  Donahue  said  that  Enterprise  would  have  been  left 
standing,  had  not  the  bosses  continued  to  put  good  miners 
out  and  blacklegs  in,  after  notification  to  stop  it.  Then  that 
structure  had  to  go  the  way  of  the  others. 

“Here  we  are  at  Pat  Hester’s  at  last,”  said  Donahue,  as 
they  gained  the  locality. 

They  entered  the  house  and  McKenna  was  placed  on 
friendly  terms  with  Mrs.  Hester  and  the  boys — for  Hester 


lie},'  7ve  are,  at  Pat.  Hester's,  at  last. 


NE IV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


289 


had  a large  family,  several  lads,  and  two  blooming  daughters. 
Presently  Donahue  retired  to  the  sitting-room  to  visit  the 
girls,  leaving  the  operative  to  be  entertained  by  the  old  lady. 
This  was  a joke  that  McKenna  appreciated,  but  the  tables 
were  quickly  turned  upon  Donahue,  who  was  surprised,  a 
moment  later,  to  see  his  former  companion  walk  into  the 
parlor  with  Mrs.  Hester,  who  gave  him  a favorable  introduc- 
tion to  her  daughters.  They  were  both  handsome  misses, 
as  McKenna  had  previously  been  informed,  and  received 
him  very  graciously.  The  conversation  soon  assumed  a 
kindly  and  interesting  phase,  despite  Donahue’s  condition. 
Even  that  tough  customer  was  somewhat  sobered  by  his 
long  walk  on  the  railroad  track. 

Hester  came  home  to  dinner.  In  the  meantime,  McKenna 
had  talked  his  best  to  the  fair  one  of  his  choice,  whose  name 
was  Maria,  and  she  seemed  to  take  his  blarney  with  a good 
grace,  but  really  giving  him,  in  joke,  as  good  as  he  sent. 

Pat  Hester  was  a rather  large,  heavy  man,  with  dark  eyes 
and  hair,  the  latter  worn  long  and  turned  under  at  the  ends, 
with  massive  and  stolid,  but  by  no  means  evil-looking  fea- 
tures. He  had  a slightly  wicked  expression  in  the  eye,  arch- 
ing eyebrows,  thin  lips  and  a narrow  chin-whisker,  the  beard 
in  hue  a little  lighter  than  the  hair.  In  all,  he  was  not  a 
man  to  fall  in  love  with  at  first  sight,  yet  wearing  a decent 
outward  appearance,  seemingly  smart,  and  not  ill-natured 
unless  provoked.  When  Hester  reached  home,  after  over- 
1 seeing  a gang  of  laborers  working  on  a railroad  bridge,  he 
met  and  was  presented  to  McKenna.  ' Taking  a natural 
fancy  for  him,  Pat  immediately  suspected  his  object,  and 
I gave  the  young  man  encouragement,  that,  if  the  lady  was 
entirely  willing,  the  father  had  no  sort  of  objection  to  the 
courtship.  But  after  dinner,  and  the  departure  of  Hester  to 
his  labor,  the  arrival  of  Pat  McCool  and  Ned  Skivington, 
the  latter  ex-County  Delegate,  interfered  considerably  with 
the  enjoyment  of  the  ladies’  society,  and  the  greater  part  of 
^3 


290 


NE IV  forces'  IN  THE  FIELD. 


the  afternoon  was  passed  by  the  Mollies  in  the  bar-room. 
McCool  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  McKenna’s,  as  he  had 
many  a time  tasted  his  liquor  in  Shenandoah.  Of  course  he 
spoke  favorably  of  the  Secretary  and  made  much  of  him. 
Skivington  was  also  very  friendly.  Toward  night  the  men 
walked  out  upon  the  track  and  met  Hester  returning.  While 
passing  a bridge,  just  before,  Donahue  had  whispered  to 
McKenna : 

“ See  that  bridge  ! Now,  for  two  hundred  dollars  from 
Pat  Hester,  I’d  see  it  well  down  wid  the  ground,  but  I’ll  be 
hanged  if  I’d  do  it  for  nothing  I ” 

This  was  as  good  as  a hint  to  the  hearer  that  Donahue 
had  been  speaking  to  Hester  about  destroying  the  bridge 
and  disagreed  with  him  as  to  the  amount  to  be  received  for 
the  undertaking. 

McKenna  accepted  the  information  with  many  nods,  winks, 
and  grimaces,  expressive  of  rapt  attention  and  interest, 
without  hazarding  an  opinion  on  the  subject  for  or  against 
burning  the  bridge.  But  he  thought  that  here  was  another 
warning  to  be  sent  to  Mr.  Franklin. 

That  night  there  was  an  interesting  group  gathered  in  Pat 
Hester’s  parlor.  The  center  lamp  shone  on  the  principal 
characters,  bringing  Them  out  in  bold  relief.  Donahue  sat 
in  a big  arm-chair,  asleep.  Whisky  had  at  last  overpowered 
the  redoubtable  relative  of  “Yellow  Jack,”  and  he  slept,  his 
head  hanging  to  one  side,  and  occasionally  starting  up  to 
show  that  he  still  lived,  and  to  save  his  neck  from  entire 
dislocation.  Pat  Hester  and  his  wife — the  latter  somewhat 
advanced  in  years,  yet  spruce  as  a sunflower  and  as  lively  as 
a cricket — were  opponents  in  a game  of  euchre ; the  lady 
having  McKenna  as  a partner,  while  Pat  played  with  his  old- 
est son.  One  of  the  Misses  Hester  was  busy  sewing,  and 
the  other — the  younger,  and  McKenna’s  particular  affinity — 
sat  at  his  elbow,  telling  him  how  to  marshal  his  cards  in 
order  to  defeat  her  respected  father  and  brother  at  the  game. 


7'hat  thefe  was  aa  inleresting  group  gathered  in  Pat.  I/ester' s par  tor . 


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NEW  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD.  2QI 

She  was  bright  and  interesting,. and  no  fault  can  be  found 
with  the  detective  if  he  permitted  his  eyes  to  wander  occa- 
sionally from  his  hand  to  gaze  into  the  blue  depths  of  those 
of  the  lady  at  his  side.  Knowing  Pat  Hester,  as  he  did, 
there  was  no.  danger  that  he  would  allow  himself  to  go  too 
far  in  his  wooing.  Indeed,  there  chanced  to  be  a charming 
girl  living  over  at^Tamaqua,  that  he  had  met  at  the  Polish 
wedding,  and  on  whom  much  of  his  thoughts  in  that  direction 
were  lavished.  He  could  not  forget  the  touch  of  those  light 
hands,  and  the  velvet  kisses  he  had  received  on  the  cheek 
so  many  weeks  before.  Yet  he  had  never  met  Miss  Higgins 
the  second  time.  He  believed  he  would  see  her  some  day, 
however,  and  determined  to  remain  heart-whole  until  that 
moment.  Miss  Hester’s  case  was  a hopeless  one.  Still  her 
assistance  in  euchre  was  very  convenient,  and  he  could  not 
help  admiring  the  grace  and  vivacity  of  the  girl,  notwith- 
standing her  connections.  When  two  games  had  been  fin- 
ished, and  success  was  about  equal  on  either  side,  the  house 
was  closed,  and  all,  excepting  McKenna  and  the  young 
ladies,  retired.  It  was  not  quite  morning  when  this  trio  sep- 
arated, mutually  pleased  with  each  other  and  the  manner  in 
which  they  had  passed  their  time. 

The  next  day  McKenna  left,  receiving  a warm  and  press- 
ing invitation  to  repeat  his  visit,  which  he  was  not  slow  in 
promising. 

On  the  way  home,  Donahue,  who  had  nearly  recovered 
from  his  spree,  only  to  engage  in  another,  gave  the  detec- 
tive, in  confidence,  the  circumstances  attending  the  cutting 
of  the  wire  cable  at  Gordon  Plane — thus  dropping  down  the 
cars  and  entailing  much  loss  and  delay  for  the  comi)any — 
upon  the  space  below,  but  fortunately  taking  no  lives.  He 
also  told  him  of  the  cruel  beatins:  of  a boss,  on  the  four- 
teenth  of  the  month,  at  Mt.  I.affee,  both  outrages  perpe- 
trated by  the  IVlollies.  But  he  was.  not  so  communicative 
in  giving  the  authors  of  those  deeds,  if  he  knew  them, 


292 


NE IV  FORCES  IN  THE  FIELD. 


which  might  be  suspected,  as  he  was  in  the  locality  at  the 
time. 

When  McKenna  returned  to  Shenandoah,  he  found  more 
trouble  awaiting  him.  McAndrew,  the  Bodymaster,  having 
for  a long  time  been  out  of  work,  was  determined  to  go  to 
Luzerne  County,  where  somebody  offered  him  employment 
in  the  mines,  near  Wilkesbarre,  and,  on  the  night  of  the 
seventeenth  of  May,  gave  notice,  in  open  division,  that  he 
would  have  to  resign,  or  leave  the  books,  papers,  and  business 
in  McKenna’s  hands  while  he  should  be  absent.  All  ex- 
pressed regret  that  he  must  go,  and  none  more  sincerely  than 
the  Secretary,  in  whose  .care  the  division  would  be,  in  such 
an  event,  as  there  was  no  Vice-President  and  no  other  per- 
son considered  capable  of  occupying  the  managing  position. 
After  the  close  of  the  meeting,  McKenna  tried  his  best  to 
make  Mci\ndrew  believe  it  his  duty  to  remain,  whatever 
might  happen,  and  even  went  as  far  as  to  promise  to  use  his 
own  best  efforts,  and  the  entire  influence  of  the  Mollies,  in 
obtaining  work  for  him  if  he  would  stay  ; but  McAndrew’s 
mind  was  fully  made  up,  Go  he  would,  and  on  the  eigh- 
teenth he  started,  the  operative  regretfully  accompanying 
him  to  the  train  and  wishing  him  “a  safe  journey,  good  luck, 
and  a quick  return.”  Here  was  a trial  for  the  detective. 
Here  was  that  under  which  he  well  might  tremble.  The 
Mollies  all  aroused — the  wicked  element  in  power — work 
hard  to  get — murder  and  assassination  riding  rampant  over 
the  country,  and  he,  the  officer  sent  to  ferret  out  and  report 
their  operations  and  their  misdeeds,  acting  as  the  head  of 
one  of  the  most  sanguinary  divisions  in  Schuykill  County. 
What  if  the  order  might  chance  to  agree  upon  the  killing  of 
Jesse  Major,  or  Corner  James,  or  Wm.  M.  Thomas,  or  any 
one  of  the  number  who  had  been  secretly  threatened  with 
death  1 What  if  Jack  Kehoe  were  to  call  upon  him  for  men 
to  assassinate  somebody  1 Evidently  it  would  require  his 
finest  ability  to  prevent  himself  from  being  drawn  into  the 


THE  DETECTIVE  IN’  SORE  TRIBULATION  293 


execution  of  crime,  whidi  was  foreign  to  his  duty.  What 
should  he  do  ? In  which  direction  should  he  turn  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION. 

McKenna’s  fears  were  not  without  foundation,  as  was 
shown  from  the  action  taken  by  members  of  his  division  the 
very  day  succeeding  the  one  on  which  McAndrew,  the  Body- 
master,  shook  the  dust  of  Shenandoah  from  his  shoes  and 
sought  work  near  Wilkesbarre.  On  the  morning  of  the 
eighteenth  of  May,  the  troubled  Secretary  was  met  at  the 
street  corner  by  Doyle  and  Garvey,  who  said  they  were  on 
the  way  to  his  boarding-house,  as  Gibbons  desired  to  see 
him  immediately,  down  in  the  bush.  The  three  men  set  out 
for  the  place  of  meeting,  and  meantime  the  mind  of  the 
detective  was  sorely  agitated.  What  were  these  men  about 
to  do  with  him  ? Had  they  penetrated  his  disguise,  now 
many  months  worn,  and,  as  he  thought,  quite  thick  enough 
to  defy  the  sharpest  scrutiny  ? Were  they  taking  him  out 
to  meet  the  fate  he  well  knew  must  follow  quick  upon  dis- 
covery of  his  real  mission  in  the  mines  ? But,  despite  dark 
reflections,  keeping  up  a firm  outward  appearance  and  pass- 
ing merry  jokes,  upon  the  usual  subjects,  without  as  much 
as  a quaver  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  or  a perceptible  tremor 
in  his  nerves,  he  walked  along  ; whether  to  his  own  death, 
or  a conference  to  end  in  the  murder  of  another,  he  could 
only  guess. 

In  the  bush,  not  far  from  Muff  Lawler’s  house,  a little 
later,  were  congregated  Gibbons,  Doyle,  Garvey,  Fenton 
Cooney,  and  James  McKenna.  Gibbons  was  the  spokes^ 


294  the  detective  in  sore  tribulation. 


man,  and  gruffly  informed  the  Secretary  that,  now  McAndrew 

was  gone,  Gomer  James  must  be  made  away  with. 

“ I propose,”  said  he,  “ that  two  men  be  obtained  from 

Mahanoy  Plane,  and  two  from  Mahanoy  City,  to  go  with  me 

an’  Doyle,  here,  an’  we’ll  soon  end  the  cursed  Welshman  ! ” 

“ How  is  it  to  be  done?”  asked  McKenna,  and  he  did 

earnestly  wish  McAndrew  was  safe  home  again. 

“ I'll  jist  tell  ye  ! ” roughly  responded  Gibbons,  while  he 

smoked  his  pipe  composedly,  . knocking  off  the  burnt 

tobacco  with  the  tip  of  his  little  finger,  showing  as  much 

coolness  as  if  sitting  in  his  own  chimney  corner,  talking  to  a 

friend  about  the  weather.  There  was  a cold,  malevolent 

glitter  in  his  restless  eye  which  told  those  who  knew  him 

that  he  was  wholly  in  earnest.  “ I’ll  tell  ye  ! All  Doyle 

an’  I wants  is  fur  the  four  men  to  kape  a good  watch,  part 

on  one  side,  an’  part  on  the  other  side  of  the  road  that 

Gomer  James  passes  over,  an’  we  two’ll  attend  to  the  rest ! 

Gomer  is  now  watchman  at  the  Little  Drift,  an’  we  can  catch 

him  aisy  like,  early  in  the  mornin’,  when  he’s  goin’  home 

from  work.  The  patch  is  not  so  very  far  from  here,  but  far 

enough,  an’  before  anybody’ll  be  up  an’  around,  we  can  be 

back  home,  an’  the  Mahanoy  men  well  on  their  road  for  the  ' 

Plane  ! ” : 

1 

“ Av  coorse,”  said  McKenna,  appreciating  that,  to  show  I 
cowardice  or  hesitation,  under  the  circumstances,  would 
prove  sure  if  not  immediate  death,  ‘Gf  the  majority’s  raally  ^ 
in  favor  of  the  thing,  we’ll  certainly  have  it  done  ! I con-  j 
sent  to  whativer  the  division  may  ask  ! ” 

The  men  present  were  united  in  the  demand,  and  so  ex- 
pressed  themselves.  All  wanted  Gomer  James  killed.  The  i 
detective,  much  against  his  will,  was  forced  to  appear  as  ' 
bloodthirsty  as  his  companions.  He  must  not  only  agree  to,  ' 
but  assume  a part  in,  the  dreadful  act.  Thoughts  flashed 
through  his  quickened  ‘brain  with  lightning-like  rapidity.  ; 
Ideas  were  plenty — in  fact,  too  plentiful — but  which  way  he 


THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION.  295 


should  turn,  and  how  escape  this  terrible  business,  at  first  he 
did  not  clearly  see.  Finally  a suggestion  came,  like  a 
reflected  gleam  of  sunlight  to  the  prisoner  in  his  rayless  cell, 
and  he  said  : 

“You  are  just  right.  Gibbons  ! That’s  exactly  the  way  to 
manage  ; an’  I’ll  go,  this  very  day,  to  Mahanoy  Plane,  see 
Callaghan,  an’  get  two  of  the  men.  I’ll  take  Garvey  wid 
me,  an’  Cooney  is  appointed  to  go  wid  you,  to  Mahanoy 
City,  to  mate  the  Bodymasther  and  get  the  others.  Then 
we’ll  return  here,  the  morrow,  an’  have  everything  ready  for 
business  the  next  day  mornin’  ! ” 

“All  right,”  answered  Gibbons. 

Cooney  consented  to  his  part  in  the  programme,  and  the 
little  meeting  broke  up,  its  members  scattering  in  various 
paths,  and  entering  Shenandoah  from  different  directions,  to 
avoid  any  remarks  of  the  people. 

This  horrid  mission  the  operative  was  loth  to  perform.  It 
came  of  McAndrew  stubbornly  refusing  to  stop  in  Shenan- 
doah without  work,  and  leaving  the.  burden  of  the  division 
to  devolve  upon  him.  He  well  knew  there  would  be  no 
chance  that  day  to  communicate  with  Mr.  Franklin,  who 
alone  could  notify  Gomer  James  of  this  new  danger,  as 
Garvey  was  sure  to  remain  close  by  him,  and  what  he  was  to 
do  he  was  quite  unable  to  determine.  The  assassination 
must  be  prevented,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  if  need  be ; 
but  how  he  was  to  reach  the  much-desired  result  remained 
among  the  problems  that  he  could  not  explain.  Trusting  to 
chance,  and  an  Irishman’s  ready  wit,  he  took  the  cars  in 
Garvey’s  company,  and  went  to  Mahanoy  Plane,  as  both  told 
inquirers,  “ to  look  for  employment.” 

At  Mahanoy  Plane,  in  the  afternoon,  the  two  Mollies  pre- 
sented themselves  before  Callaghan,  and  in  Garvey’s  hearing, 
' the  operative  made  demand  of  that  Bodymaster’s  division  for 
two  men  who  were  “capable  of  doin’  a clane  job.”  Calla- 
ghan said  he  was  quite  willing,  but  the  members  of  his  body 


296  THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION. 


were  nearly  all  young  and  inexperienced,  and  he  doubted  if 
he  could  find  two  who  would  serve  the  purpose.  Still,  he 
promised  to  make  the  effort. 

The  detective  and  his  friend  then  left,  saying  tliey  would 
call  at  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon,  prepared  to  return  to 
Shenandoah  with  the  persons  appointed.  Before  leaving 
Callaghan,  the  Secretary  treated  twice,  and  he  and  Garvey 
sallied  out  to  find  what  was  to  be  seen  at  the  Plane.  They 
first  visited  Joe  Murphy’s  house,  where  they  had  more  liquor, 
and,  after  taking  the  rounds  of  all  the  saloons,  both  begun  to 
feel  they  had  swallowed  something  more  powerful  than  water 
— McKenna,  especially,  finding  himself  so  badly  under  the 
influence  that  he  exhibited  it  in  his  walk  and  conversation, 
the  former  fast  becoming  vibratory,  and  the  latter  boisterous. 
When  they  reappeared  at  Callaghan’s,  it  was  nearly  dark, 
and  the  Bodymaster  informed  them  he  had  not  found  the 
needed  men.  He  said  he  did  not  despair,  however,  and, 
after  treating  once  or  twice,  went  out  to  continue  the  search. 
In  his  absence  McKenna  was  entirely  overcome,  fell  sprawl- 
ing over  on  a long  bench,  and  soon  relapsed  into  a drunken 
stupor,  from  which  neither  Garvey  nor  Callaghan,  with  use 
of  every  known  appliance,  could  succeed  in  awakening  him. 
It  was  fully  nine  o’clock  at  night,  and  Garvey  had  taken  the 
train  for  Shenandoah,  before  the  drunken  Secretary  was  made 
sufficiently  sensible  to  understand  that  he  must  get  up.  So 
sottish  was  his  condition  that  Callaghan  found  himself  forced 
to  secure  a bed  for  him  for  the  night,  and  assist  in  putting 
him  under  its  cover. 

• The  detective  had,  at  least,  postponed  his  own  participa- 
tion in  the  James  matter,  and  was  almost  certain  Gibbons 
would  delay  any  attempt  to  kill  the  Welshman  until  he  re- 
turned. Still  there  was  a remote  chance  of  his  pursuing  an 
opposite  course.  But  McKenna  was  perfectly  helpless.  No 
dispatch  could  be  sent  to  Philadelphia  from  that  small  place 
without  creating  suspicion.  The  best  he  could  do  was  to 


THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION.  29/ 


sit  up  in  bed,  write  a few  lines  in  pencil,  setting  forth  the 
danger  James  was  in,  seal  it,  stamp  it,  having  recourse  to  the 
improvised  stamp  depository  in  his  boot-leg,  and  after  mid- 
night, when  all  in  the  house  were  supposed  to  be  asleep, 
steal  softly  down-stairs,  in  his  stockings,  with  brogues  in 
hand,  and  go  to  the  post-office.  All  of  this  he  succeeded  in 
doing,  and  in  safely  mailing  his  letter,  and  got  back  to  his 
couch  without  discovery.  There  was  the  risk  that  Gibbons 
had  obtained  his  men  from  Mahanoy  City,  and  might  be 
even  then  waiting  for  Corner  James,  ready  to  take  his  life. 
He  found  enough  in  this  thought  to  banish  refreshing  sleep. 
But  McKenna  remained  in  his  room  until  people  were  stir- 
ring for  another  day,  and  then  rising,  walked  about  in  the 
cool  air  until  Callaghan  made  his  appearance  in  the  bar- 
room. 

“ Did  ye  get  the  men  ? ” inquired  McKenna,  after  greeting 
the  tavern  keeper. 

“ Divil  a man  ! ” answered  Callaghan. 

“ An’  do  ye  mane  to  ? ” 

“ Sure,  an’  I do  ! ” 

“An’  phatever  was’t  that  ye  gave  me  for  whisky,  last 
night?  I’m  half  in  the  belafe  that,  to  get  out  of  sendin’  the 
men  to  do  me  biddin’,  ye  tried  to  poison  me  ! ” — adding  : “ I 
niver  felt  so  quare  in  my  head  in  all  me  life  ! ” 

“ Deil  a bit  of  poison  was  there  in  it  ! The  whisky  was 
the  very  best  ! You  must  have  mixed  your  drinks  after 
cornin’  to  the  Plane  ! ” 

It  was  of  no  avail  for  the  operative  to  be  angry  with  Cal- 
laghan, as  he  would  make  nothing  by  it.  Therefore,  leav- 
ing word  with  the  Bodymaster  to  send  his  men  over  when  they 
were  ready,  McKenna  proceeded  to  Shenandoah.  There 
he  found  a great  excitement  prevailing  over  two  fires  that  had 
occurred  the  previous  night,  one  at  Excelsior  Colliery, 
already  spoken  of,  the  other  being  the  burning  of  the  railway 
signal  tower  at  Mahanoy  Plane.  Not  much  was  said  about 

13* 


298  THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION. 


the  Secretary’s  failure  to  secure  the  two  men  from  Callaghan, 
as  Garvey  had  returned  the  night  before,  very  much  under 
the  influence  of  liquor,  reporting  McKenna  as  on  the  road, 
drunk,  without  the  Mollies  sent  for,  and  as  Gibbons  had 
been  no  more  successful,  having  failed  entirely.  Thus  the 
Secretary  was  once  more  excused  for  being  intoxicated  when 
intrusted  with  urgent  business. 

Hurley,  Doyle,  Monaghan,  and  Gibbons  had  lain  in  wait 
for  Gomer  James,  however,  the  second  morning,  and  he  had 
not  made  his  appearance  as  expected. 

The  operative  was  more  easy  in  his  mind,  as  he  knew 
that,  through  Capt.  Linden,  or  some  other  person,  James 
must  surely  have  received  warning  to  keep  himself  continu- 
ually  under  protection,  out  of  harm’s  way. 

A few  days  later.  Hurley  related  how  he  and  the  others 
had,  on  one  occasion,  gone  out  to  fix  Gomer  James,  and  he. 
Hurley,  was  armed  with  a rifle.  They  lay  out  nearly  all 
night,  hoping  to  see  and  catch  him,  and  had  Monaghan  done 
the  right  thing,  they  would  have  killed  the  Welshman,  as  he 
actually  passed  their  ambush,  the  ex-constable  failing  to  in- 
form them  who  he  was  until  too  late.  As  it  chanced,  Doyle 
had  his  pistol  leveled  at  him,  but  was  prevented  from  shoot- 
ing by  Garvey,  who  said  he  might  be  hitting  an  innocent 
man. 

At  another  time,  the  young  Welshman  arrived  when  Gib- 
bons, Hurley,  Cooney,  Garvey,  Doyle,  Monaghan,  Finnell, 
and  Thompson,  all  armed,  were  waiting  for  him.  Still  he 
traversed  the  road  in  safety.  Hurley  would  have  dropped 
him  at  a venture,  only  he  was  just  loading  the  rifle  at  the 
time.  When  ready,  the  lucky  man  was  concealed  from 
view. 

“ W^ell,  what  are  you  going  to  do  now?”  inquired  the 
operative. 

“We  are  sure  to  get  him  yet  !”  answered  Hurley.  “But 
first  let  us  go  and  see  some  cousins  of  tl;e  man,  Cosgrove. 


When  ready,  the  lucky  uuui  was  concealed  f rom  vie-<u. 


THE  DETECTIVE  IN  SORE  TRIBULATION.  2 99 

If  they  will  come  down  with  more  money,  then  we  can 
return  here,  and  if  the  rest  all  back  out.  I’ll  do  the  job  on 
my  own  ])rivate  account  ! I suppose  you’ll  lend  a hand  ? ” 

This  to  McKenna. 

“ Oh,  yes  ! That’s  all  right ! ” responded  the  Secretary, 
ai)provingly. 

So  money  was  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

The  life  of  the  young  Welshman  hung  upon  an  attenuated 
thread.  Still  he  remained  a watchman,  only  having  himself 
changed  from  a night  to  a day  hand.  Gibbons  and  Hurley 
everywhere  sought  his  life,  but  McKenna  managed  to  keep 
clear  of  it.  At  last  Gibbons  boldly  said  he  would  go  to 
Jack  Kehoe  in  person,  and  demand  for  Hurley  and  himself 
a commission  to  kill  Goiner  James.  They  wanted  no  help 
and  could  easily  perform  the  task  by  themselves. 

The  ensuing  Sunday  morning,  Mike  Doyle  was  at  Cooney’s, 
where  McKenna  boarded.  He  said  everything  had  been 
arranged  for  Gomer  James,  and  three  men  were  to  arrive 
from  Girardville  the  next  day,  when  the  Secretary  must  be 
ready  to  do  his  share.  The  time  set  for  the  act  was  Mon- 
day night.  May  24,  1875.  Again  were  the  thoughts  of  the 
officer  turned  to  saving  the  intrepid  but  foolhardy  young 
man.  It  was  not  })ossible  that  the  Mollies  suspected  him  of 
having  warned  James,  causing  him  to  cease  traveling  his 
former  path  at  night,  but  Doyle  seemed  to  be  placed  with 
the  Secretary  and  clung  industriously  to  him  through  the 
entire  day,  and  he  had  no  chance  to  write  or  telegraph  a line 
to  Mr.  Franklin.  Doyle,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom, 
refused  to  drink,  and  his  apparent  task  was  to  keep  McKenna 
duly  sober  for  the  expected  meeting  with  Kehoe’ s promised 
assassins.  That  was  undoubtedly  his  object  in  remaining 
nigh  the  detective.  He  must  have  been  instructed  by  some 
one  to  do  so,  as  it  was  not  characteristic  of  Mike  Doyle  to 
refuse  good  liquor,  or  restrain  himself  from  a debauch,  when 
acting  wholly  from  his  own  impulses. 


3 OO  THE  DE  TE  C TIVE  IN  SORE  TRIE  ULA  TION. 


The  detective  began  heartily  to  curse  the  day  that  he  ever 
allowed  himself  to  sit  in  the  Secretary’s  chair,  and  exercised 
his  wits  thinking  up  some  way  of  shirking  official  responsi- 
bilities, which,  considering  the  condition  the  country  was  in, 
he  found  to  clash  with  his  duty  to  the  Agency  and  to  the 
])ublic.  He  wished  McAndrew  might  return,  and  even 
thought  of  sending  him  word  that  Mrs.  McAndrew  was  very 
ill — but  learned,  upon  visiting  her,  she  was  never  better  iri 
her  life — and  that  would  not  succeed.  It  subsequently 
occurred  to  him  that  he  intended  going  away  to  Wiikesbarre, 
after  more  counterfeit  money.  But  this  pretence  fell  through, 
as  Hurley  and  Gibbons  both  said  he  could  send  a letter. 
Then  he  called  a meeting  of  the  division,  brought  before  it 
and  read  aloud  the  printed  constitution  and  by-laws  of  the 
order,  which  provided  for  the  election,  each  year,  of  a Vice- 
President  and  an  Assistant  Secretary,  neither  of  which  chairs 
had  ever  been  filled.  The  suggestion  was  that  Thomas  Hurley 
be  elected  Vice-President  until  the  annual  day  for  choosing 
officers  came  around,  and  Gibbons  to  have  the  position  of 
Assistant  Secretary.  Both  of  these  men  absolutely  refused 
to  serve — ^both  were  illiterate,  both  had  characters  too  well 
known  in  the  community — and  a majority  of  the  members 
present  at  the  meeting  unanimously  supported  a resolution 
to  the  effect  that  Bodymaster,  Secretary,  and  Treasurer  were 
officers  enough  for  that  lodge.  Here  McKenna’s  work  came 
to  naught.  He  was  unable  to  find  anything  satisfactory 
which  would  take  the  responsibility  off  his  shoulders  and 
permit  him  to  go  to  Luzerne  County,  as  he  desired,  and  had 
to  let  iLi'est,  Tearing  that  any  very  marked  pertinacity  might 
call  the  attention  of  the  brotherhood  to  his  efforts  to  avoid 
a duty  assumed  when  he  took  the  position  he  held. 

• The  occurrence  of  a great  fire  in  the  wood,  which  spread 
from  patch  to  patch,  and  from  mountain  to  mountain,  carry- 
ing destruction  and  consternation  along  its  track,  in  the  ex- 
tinguishment of  which  everybody  about  the  vicinity  was  en- 


THE  DETECTIVE  TN  SORE  TRIBULATION.  3OI 


gaged,  prevented  the  present  execution  of  the  James  assassi- 
nation. The  employment  of  every  available  man  in  fighting 
fire  made  it  impossible  the  Mollies  should  then 'seek  the 
young  man’s  life.  Still,  it  was  only  a short  time  that 
this  work  kept  them  from  bloody  thoughts  and  bloodier 
deeds. 

James  must  have  received  a notice  of  what  was  going  on, 
as  once  more  he  resigned  his  position  and  left  the  vicinity. 
The  men  who,  upon  this  occasion,  were  selected  to  do  for 
Corner  James  were  James  Bradley,  of  Loss  Creek,  Tom 
Connory,  alias  “ Derrick,”  of  Connor’s  Patch,  and  Anthony 
Monaghan,  “ Rappa  Jack,”  of  Rappahannock.  They 

were  duly  notified  of  James’  disappearance.  But  Cibbons 
was  not  the  man  to  give  up  a thing  upon  which  his  heart  was 
set,  as  it  was  on  the  murder  of  the  Welshman,  and  the  detec- 
tive knew  that  he  must  keep  an  earnest  and  close  watch  of' 
both  Hurley  and  Cibbons,  or  they  would  yet  accomplish  the 
deed.  Hence  McKenna  greatly  affected  Cibbons’  company, 
night  and  day. 

In  a little  while  Cibbons  hatched  a plan  to  get  James 
back  as  watchman  at  the  old  breaker.  It  was  to  gather 
half  a dozen  men,  and  fire  a volley  in  the  air,  at  night, 
to  frighten  the  men  who  had  taken  Comer  James’  place, 
when  some  one  could  report  it  to  the  boss,  who  would 
very  naturally  say:  “When  James  was  night-watchman, 
such  things  did  not  happen  ; if  they  did,  somebody  got  hurt, 
for  Comer  was  no  coward ! ” 

This  plan,  it  was  thought  by  some,  would  cause  Comer 
James  to  be  reinstated. 

Cooney  was  of  the  opinion  that  it  must  fail,  as  James  had 
proceeded  deliberately  to  get  drunk,  when  he  knew  that 
such  conduct  would  surely  end  in  his  discharge.  It  ap- 
peared to  him  that  the  Welshman  wanted  a chance  to  leave, 
and  had  in  some  way  discovered  that  the  Mollies  were  once 
more  in  search  of  him. 


302  THE  DETECTIVE  m SORE  TRIBULATION. 


To  quiet  the  matter  more  effectually,  McKenna  promised 
Gibbons  that  he  would  try  and  make  a trade  with  some 
Division-master  for  men  to  follow  James,  wherever  he  might 
be,  and  kill  him.  But  he  never  did  anything  of  the  sort,  nor 
had  he  so  intended  when  making  the  proposition. 

McKenna  was  supported  in  his  acts  by  Jack  Kehoe,  who, 
a little  later,  swore  that  he  would  not  be  dictated  to,  and 
that  if  McKenna,  who  was,  in  his  sight,  acting  Bodymaster 
of  Shenandoah  Division,  allowed  Hurley  and  Gibbons  to  tell 
him  what  he  should  and  should  not  do,  he  would  consider  it 
his  duty,  as  County  Delegate,  to  look  after  him,  the  Secre- 
tary, and  have  him  cut  off. 

The  detective  at  the  same  time  learned  that  Kehoe  had 
just  returned  from  Mahanoy  City,  where  he  found  the  Eng- 
lish and  Welsh  all  assembled  about  the  public  square,  and 
no  Irishman,  or  woman,  could  pass  without  being  insulted.  | 
Even  the  Celts  who  were  not,  and  never  had  been  Mollies,  ' 
he  said,  begged  him  to  do  something  to  end  this  unendurable  j 
state  of  suffering.  They  did  not  care  what  was  done  if  it 
only  quieted  the  Modocs,  who  were  acting  worse  than  their  * 
namesakes  of  the  lava-beds  in  the  far  west. 

“I  have  sent  Tom  Donahue,”  said  the  County  Delegate,  ' 
“up  to  Locust  Gap,  to  see  Dennis  Canning,  County  Dele-  j 
gate  of  Northumberland,  but  learned  that  he  had  gone  to  f 
Pittsburg  and  was  at  work  there  ; an'  I now  intend  getting  | 
Chris  Donnelly,  of  Mt.  Laffee,  County  Treasurer ; Wm.  }. 
Gavin,  of  Big  Mine  Run,  County  Secretary  ; Mike  O’Brien,  | 
Bodymaster- at  Mahanoy  City — and  I invite  you,  McKenna, 
to  be  present — to  hold  a convention,  on  the  first  of  June,  at  | 
Clark’s,  in  Mahano}^,  an’  we  will  see  what  is  to  be  done  wid  ;; 
the  whelps,  now  barkin’  so  lustily.  Perhaps  it  might  be  the  ' 
thing  to  jist  bouldly  an’  publicly  challenge  the  whole  pack  ! ; 
to  come  out  an’  fight  us.  Some  think  we  had  best  attack 
’em  in  the  night  an’  shoot  down  every  one  we  meet,  sparin’ 
only  women  and  children  I I hate  shedding  of  human  i I 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN.  303 

blood,  but  these  are  mighty  hot  times,  an’  something  will 
have  to  be  put  to  work  to  give  us  our  rights  ! ” 

“Sure,  an’  1 can’t  but  applaud  your  acts,  Kehoe  !”  re- 
sponded McKenna.  “ Fur  wan  that  ye  have  invited,  ye 
may  count  on  my  bein’  at  Clark’s  promptly  on  the  day.” 
The  County  Delegate  expressed  his  pleasure,  and  said,  if 
all  the  gentlemen  were  like  the  Shenandoah  Secretary  the 
Modocs  would  soon  be  silenced.  The  men  then  parted, 
Kehoe  to  attend  to  home  measures,  and  deal  out  whisky  for 
his  customers,  and  the  detective  to  report  to  Mr.  Franklin 
and  prepare  for  the  great  convention. 

y 

■ ♦ 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 

Other  events  crowding  upon  their  attention  seemed  for  a 
time  to  guard  the  threatened  Comer  James  from  the  bullets 
of  his  sworn  assassins.  I'he  Welshman  still  lived  and  pursued 
his  usual  avocations,  wherever  he  might  be,  unharmed  and 
unmolested. 

At  the  annual  borough  election  Jack  Kehoe  was  unani- 
mously chosen  High  Constable  of  Girardville.  He  was  not 
only  King  of  the  Mollies  of  Schuylkill,  but  had  the  power  of 
arrest  and  charge  of  the  municipal  prisoners.  If  the  latter 
chanced  to  be  of  the  order,  they  were  handled  tenderly  and 
fared  sumptuously.  If  of  the  Chain  Gang,  the  Modoc,  or 
Sheet  Iron  sort,  he  bundled  them  into  jail  without  gloves, 
and  fed  them  upon  whatever  might  be  cheap  and  unsavory. 
Surely,  Jack  Kehoe  was  a rising  luminary  in  the  heavens — or 
on  the  earth — and  his  luck  fast  improving. 


304 


THE  IHQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


A few  days  before  the  date  appointed  for  the  convention 
at  Mahanoy  City,  McKenna  went  to  see  Michael  O’Brien 
and  had  a talk  with  him  about  the  trouljles  in  his  vicinity. 
O’Brien  was  anxious  to  have  three  or  four  men,  who  could 
be  depended  upon,  come  over  to  Mahanoy,  and  he  would  ap- 
point persons  from  his  own  division  to  show  the  strangers 
their  work,  which  was  to  “ fetch  ” Wm.  M.  Thomas  and  Jesse 
Major.  He  was  of  the  opinion  that,  if  these  j)arties,  and 
two  or  three  others,  were  well  out  of  the  way,  there  might 
ensue  a reign  of  peace  in  the  community  ; but  just  as  long 
as  they  lived,  trouble  would  surely  come.  O’Brien  said  he 
had  given  Kehoe  the  situation  of  affairs. 

While  in  Mahanoy  one  McDonell  reported  to  the  Shen- 
andoah Secretary  that  he  had  recently  conversed  with 
Thomas,  who  seemed  reckless  and  stubborn,  remarking  to 
the  effect  that  it  made  little  difference  to  him,  since  the 
Dan  Dougherty  shooting,  how  he  carried  himself,  the  Mollies 
were  sure  to  get  him,  wherever  he  might  hide.  Some  one 
had  lately  informed  Thomas  that,  the  next  time  he  was  as- 
saulted, it  would  be  in  open  daylight,  by  a man  on  horse- 
back. McDonell  learned  that  Bill  carried  arms  on  his  per- 
son, and  boasted  his  readiness  to  receive  the  Mollies  when- 
ever and  in  whatever  manner  they  chose  to  meet  him.  Of 
the  truth  of  this  the  members  of  the  society  had  all  the 
proof  needed.  What  they  wanted  was  to  find  somebody, 
unknown  to  the  citizens  and  to  Bill,  that  Thomas  might  be 
murdered  and  no  trace  be  left  of  the  murderers. 

The  next  day,  while  McKenna  was  present.  Hurley  came 
to  Cooney’s,  in  Shenandoah,  and  asked  the  master  of  the 
house  to  pass  out  to  him,  through  a window,  his  rifle,  which 
had,  during  several  days,  been  left  there  for  safe-keeping. 
Some  visitors  were  in  the  building  at  the  time,  with  Mrs. 
Cooney,  and  Hurley  did  not  care  to  have  them  see  him  re- 
ceive the  gun.  This  looked  like  business  to  the  detective, 
but  he  was  unable  to  stop  in  Shenandoah  to  hnd  out  what 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN.  305 

might  be  in  preparation,  as  the  approaching  meeting  in 
Mahanoy  City  demanded  immediate  attention. 

McAndrew,  who  was  yet  working  at  Port  Griffith,  could 
not  go  to  the  convention,  and  McKenna  was  the  man  to  fill 
his  place.  Before  the  day  arrived,  the  operative  saw  Kehoe 
at  Girardville.  There  he  met  Jack  Donahue,  John  Reagan, 
the  latter  Bodymaster  at  St.  Clair,  and  some  other  Mollies. 
Mrs.  Kehoe’ s child  was  sick,  and  Dr.  Carr  visited  it,  bringing 
Reagan  up  with  him  in  his  carriage.  Dr.  Sherman,  of 
Girardville,  was  also  there  in  consultation.  Kehoe,  after  a 
little  time,  called  McKenna,  Donahue,  and  Reagan  into  the 
kitchen,  at  the  rear  of  his  bar,  and  some  private  conversation 
ensued  upon  the  lately  appointed  meeting  at  Mahanoy  City. 
Kehoe  was  anxious  tnat  Reagan  and  McKenna  should  be 
there,  ending  his  introduction  of  the  subject  with  a request 
that  the  latter  should  go,  that  afternoon,  and  inform  O’Brien, 
Bodymaster  of  Mahanoy  City  Division,  to  be  ready  to  receive 
them.  This  he  promised  to  do.  Subsequently  Kehoe  asked  : 
“ Do  either  of  you  know  any  good  old  men,  who  are 
sharp  on  the  shoot  ? I want  some  capable  of  doing  a very 
particular  work,  an’  doing  it  swiftly  and  surely  ! ” 

“ Well,  ye  are  posted  as  to  Shenandoah  Division,”  re- 
turned McKenna,  “ an’  know  that  we  are  nearly  all  young 
men,  an’  of  no  great  experience.  I don’t  think  any  could 
be  depended  upon  in  a case  of  importance  ! ” 

“ As  for  me,”  here  broke  in  Reagan,  I belave  I have 
one  man  that’ll  jist  fill  the  bill  an’  put  in  good  work  when- 
ever ye  make  the  call  on  me  ! ” 

Further  conference  on  this  topic,  at  the  time,  was  broken 
off  by  the  coming  down  the  stairs  of  Drs.  Sherman  and  Carr. 
With  the  latter,  after  a treat  from  the  disciple  of  Esculapius, 
Reagan  rode  away  homeward. 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Kehoe  developed  a plan 
through  which  a constable  by  the  name  of  Lamison  should 
be  killed.  It  seems  that  the  officer  alluded  to,  in  arresting 


3o6 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


a Mollie  named  Rusk,  at  Kingston,  not  long  before,  had  shot 
the  Irishman,  who  violently  resisted.  Beside,  the  same 
official  had  fired  upon  and  wounded  a lad,  named  Leville, 
who  was  saucy  while  on  his  way  home  from  afoot-race.  For 
these  offenses  the  High  Constable  and  King  of  the  Mollies 
wanted  Lamison  assassinated.  He  desired*  that  a warrant 
should  be  sworn  out  for  his  victim’s  arrest,  to  be  served  by 
himself,  and  while  on  the  road  to  Girardville,  a masked  mob 
of  Mollies  might  pounce  upon  and  easily  overpower  Kehoe, 
and  in  the  mtdee,  shoot  down  and  kill  his  prisoner.  Tom 
Donahue,  who  was  participating  in  the  conversation,  sagely 
suggested  that  Lamison  would  possibly  have  a hearing  at 
Kingston  and  secure  bail,  thus  knocking  Kehoe’ s fine  scheme 
into  atoms.  He  was  in  favor  of  having  Lamison  planted 
under  the  daisies,  on  the  general  principle,  as  he  coarsely 
put  it,  that  ‘‘  dead  dogs  wag  no  tails,”  but  wanted  the  job  j 
done  scientifically  and  without  a chance  of  failure.  I 

Sunday,  the  first  of  June,  1875,  came,  one  of  the  balmiest  \ 
of  spring  days.  The  snow  had  long  since  dissolved,  swelling  ! 
the  mountain  streams,  the  verdure  brightened  up,  and  winter  | 
no  longer  lingered  in  the  lap  of  spring.  The  life-giving  sap  | 
rose  from  the  warm  earth,  coursed  along  and  filled  the  blood-  i 
less  veins,  and  brought  bud  and  blossom  to  the  forest  trees. 

But  all  this  harmony  in  nature  found  no  counterpart  in 
the  minds  of  the  residents  of  the  country  cursed  by  the 
Mollie  Maguires.  'On  the  contrar}'-,  the  storm  of  passion  and 
hate  in  human  hearts  was  unassuaged,  and  swept  forward, 
seeming  to  gather  strength  and  fury  as  it  desolated  hearth- 
stones and  filled  graves  with  gory  victims. 

The  detective  was  early  at  Mahanoy  City,  and  in  joining 
his  brethren  at  the  Emerald  House,  Michael  Clark  proprie- 
tor. This  man  Clark,  as  before  stated,  was  not  a Mollie 
Maguire,  but  his  two  sons  belonged  to  the  order. , The  hotel  | 
was  a two-story,  basement  and  attic  affair,  the  outside  painted  ^ 
brown,  with  the  eaves  and  two  dormer-windows  facing  the  ^^1 


7'he  Emerald  House.  Michael  Clark,  proprietor 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN 


307 


main  street  of  the  city.  The  first  floor  front  was  lighted  by 
large  sliow  windows,  for  which  there  were  no  shades  or  screens 
to  veil  the  array  of  bottles  and  decanters  behind  the  bar,  or 
the  men  there  congregating  to  enjoy  their  liquor.  There 
Avas  a door  at  tlie  center,  giving  entrance  to  the  saloon  and 
bar,  and  another  at  the  side  by  which  the  upper  apartments 
Avere  reached  Avithouf  troubling  other  inmates. 

In  the  rear  of  the  public  room  Avas,  first,  a long  dining- 
hall  common  to  such  places,  and  then  the  kitchen.  All  Avere 
very  plainly  furnished.  At  the  end  of  the  lot  was  the  bank 
of  the  river.  Upstairs,  in  the  front  part  of  the  house,  Avas 
one  spacious,  Avell-lighted  apartment,  carpeted  and  decently 
stocked  Avith  furniture,  in  which  meetings  Avere  held,  and  it 
Avas  lighted,  by  day,  Avuth  four  Avindows.  Back  of  this  were 
bedrooms.  On  the  garret  floor  were  also  a number  of  sleep- 
ing apartments.  The  business  of  the  Avriter  is  with  the  as- 
sembly room,  Avhere  the  conspirators  congregated.  There, 
at  half-past  ten  in  the  forenoon,  seated  around  a large  table, 
Avere  John  Kehpe,  County  Delegate  of  Schuylkill ; Chris 
Donnelly,  of  Mt.  Laflee,  County  Treasurer  ; Wm.  Gavin,  of 
Big  Mine  Run,  County  Secretary ; John  Donahue,  alias 
“ YelloAv  Jack,”  Bodymaster  of  Tuscarora ; Dennis  F.  Can- 
ning, County  Delegate  of  Northumberland,  residing  at 
Locust  Gap;  Wm.  Gomerly,  Bodymaster  of  St.  Nicholas; 
James  Roarty,  Bodymaster  .at  Coaldale ; Mike  O’Brien, 
Bodymaster  at  Mahanoy  City,  Avuth  his  Secretary,  Fi;ancis 
McHugh,  and  James  McKenna,  representing  Shenandoah 
Division,  and  also  acting  as  my  detective.  In  the  bar  beloAV 
there  Avere  other  Mollies,  and  Avith  them  James  Kerrigan, 
Bodymaster  of  Tamaqua  Division.  Kehoe  sat  in  the  place 
of  authority,  made  the  opening  prayer,  and  organized  the 
meeting.  He  then  delivered  a brief  speech,  saying  that  he 
supposed  all  Avere  acquainted  Avith  the  object  of  the  conven- 
tion, and  Avithout  further  explanation,  appointed  a committee 
of  two  to  bring  Dan  Dougherty  before  the  meeting.  This 


3o8 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


was  done,  and  Dan  came  in.  He  was  a well-favored  young 
Irishman,  with  dark  hair  and  mustache,  eyes  of  the  same 
color,  nose  straight,  face  rather  full,  and  cheeks  red  and 
healthful,  despite  the  wounds  he  had  received  from  Major, 
and  the  dread  he  appeared  to  be  in  of  the  relatives  of  the 
deceased  Chief  Burgess,  and  of  Bully  Bill.  Dougherty  was 
a miner  by  occupation,  dressed  well,  and  had  the  reputation 
of  being  ordinarily  a sober  man.  Of  about  medium  height 
and  weight,  his  physical  status  did  honor  to  his  twenty-four 
years. 

“ Dan,  show  us  your  coat,”  said  Kehoe. 

Dougherty  obeyed,  and,  removing  the  garment,  exhibited 
bullet-holes  perforating  the  cloth  in  two  or  three  places. 

Who  do  ye  think  did  it  ? ” queried  the  County  Delegate. 

“I  belave  it  was  Jesse  Major,  but  I couldn’t  swear  to  him 
on  the  book  ! ” 

“ Didn’t  the  police  try  to  catch  him  ?” 

“ No  ! An’  there  was  an  officer  not  four  yards  from  the 
man  at  the  time  ! I axed  him  why.  ‘ Sure,  and  I’d  be  shot 
down  in  me  tracks  if  I raised  a hand,’  said  he,  an’,  he  went 
off  about  his  business  as  if  nothin’  had  happened  ! ” 

This  caused  a buzz,  evidently  of  anger,  to  pass  around  the 
table. 

“What  men  do  ye  think  are  at  the  head  of  all  the  late 
troubles  in  this  city?”  asked  Kehoe,  who  had  remained 
standing  from  the  time  that  Dougherty  entered  the  apart- 
ment. 

“ The  which  ? Who  is  it  ? Faith,  an,  I can  think  of  no 
one  exceptin’  Jesse  and  James  Major,  an’  Bully  Bill ! If  the 
toes  of  these  three  were  turned  up,  ther’d  be  peaceable  times 
in  Mahanoy ! ” 

“ That’ll  do,”  said  Kehoe.  “ You  may  retire.” 

Dougherty  cast  a searching  glance  around  the  board, 
seemed  satisfied,  put  on  his  coat,  and  left  the  chamber. 

For  a moment  after  the  closing  of  the  door,  silence  reigned 


'‘‘'Dan.j  s/ioiu  us  your  coat!  said  Kehoe!' 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN.  309 

in  the  inquisition-room,  and  the  inquisitors  said  not  a 
word. 

Chris  Donnelly  was  the  first  to  speak  : 

“ These  things  are  getting  altogether  too  bad ! I-ast  night 
the  train  coming  from  Pottsville,  by  way  of  Tamaqua,  was 
searched  by  Jesse  and  Wm.  Major,  and  a number  of  others, 
all  armed,  and  the  company  allowed  it  without  a word  ! I 
suppose  it  is  because  the  Majors  hire  a big  vein.  I think  we 
must  put  a stop  to  such  goings  on ! ” 

Kehoe  resumed  his  seat,  placed  his  elbows  on  the  table, 
rested  his  hatchet-face  on  his  two  hands,  and  awaited  devel- 
opments. 

“For  one,”  resumed  Donnelly,  who  had  not  left  his  chair 
while  speaking,  “ I’ll  get  two  good  men,  an’  go  myself,  and 
have  the  Majors’  business  at  once  attended  to  ! ” 

Here  Jack  Donahue — “ Yellow  Jack” — stood  on  his  feet, 
and  remarked  : 

‘‘  We,  of  this  side  the  mountain,  are  thankful  to  ye  of  the 
part  beyant  the  mountain  ; but  we  can  attend  to  the  affair,  at 
present.  *You,  Donnelly,  nade  not  move  just  yet ! Afther 
Sunday,  if  we  need  you.  I’ll  send  word  by  a man  to  Potts- 
ville, an’  tell  you  what’s  to  be  done.” 

Kehoe,  after  some  more  talk,  appointed  Mike  O’Brien  and 
James  McKenna  a committee  to  see  what  should  be  done 
with  Wm.  M,  Thomas. 

The  detective  brazened  it  out,  and  expressed  a willingness 
to  attend  to  his  duty,  at  the  same  time  suggesting  that  coun- 
sel from  older  heads  would  be  in  order.  _ O’Brien  tacitly 
deferred  management  of  this  portion  of  the  business  to  Mc- 
Kenna, which  was  satisfactory  to  the  agent,  as  it  ran  through 
his  mind  that,  if  permitted  to  hold  the  helm  all  through,  Bill 
Thomas  would  not  be  in  any  especial  danger  of  losing  his 
life. 

“ Pm  in  favor  of  shootin’  Bullv  Bill,  bowldly,  right  on  the 
strate,  in  open  daylight  !”  exclaimed  Kehoe. 


310 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


O’Brien  hinted  that  such  a course  would  be  sure  to  get 
the  boys  in  a scrape,  and  added  : 

“ Ihll  can  best  be  taken  on  the  road  home  to  Shoemaker’s 
Patch.  Then  he  can  be  dropped,  an’  the  men  make  sure 
their  escaj)e  ! ” 

“Yes,  that  is  the  best  plan,”  here  put  in  Dennis  Canning, 
the  Northumberland  delegate,  who  had  previously  said  little. 
He  was  a gentlemanly-ajjpearing  person,  showing  nothing  in 
his  face  to  indicate  a sanguinary  disposition.  Yet  he  took 
part  in  the  cold-blooded  proceedings  of  the  convention,  with- 
out a chill  passing  over  him,  and  seemed  as  much  concerned 
regarding  the  murder  of  Thomas  as  the  others. 

“ Let  it  be  so,  then,”  resumed  the  King  of  all  the  Mollies, 
in  Schuylkill,  and  he  lifted  his  bearded  chin  from  his  thin 
hands,  and  looked  sharply  over  at  McKenna. 

“To  you,  an’  your  division,  Jim  McKenna,  I lave  the 
picking  out  of  four  or  five  good  men,  safe  to  be  intrusted 
with  such  a difficult  matther ! Jist  notify  the  division  to 
come  together  an’  select  ’em,  an’  have  ’em  come  over  an’ 
report  to  Mike  O’Brien,  here,  who  will  find  them  a boardin’- 
place,  payin’  for  their  k apin’  out  of  the  county  fund.  Let 
them  not  be  later  than  Saturday  afternoon.  If  they  can’t 
make  their  point  on  Bully  Bill  in  three  days,  you  reldve  them 
and  sind  over  fresh  fellows,  an’  kape  it  up  until  the  work  be 
done.  O’Brien  will  appoint  those  to  lead  the  Shenandoah 
boys  up  to  Bill,  an’  ingineer  the  business  through  ! Fail 
they  must  not  ! If  they  do,  let  them  beware  the  power  of 
the  order  ! If  Shenandoah  can’t  succeed,  Roarty  must  sind 
men,  an’  all  the  rest  in  turn,  until  the  Modocs  cry 
enough  ! ” 

The  Shenandoah  Secretary  made  known  his  acceptance 
of  the  charge,  and  said  he  would  see  the  division  notified 
and  convened. 

Canning  inquired  if  any  men  were  wanted  from  his  part 
of  the  State,  but  Donnelly  replied  : 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN.  3II 

“No!  the  job  is  a small  one,  and  we  can  attend  to  it 
ourselves  ! ” 

At  first,  and  before  the  convention  was  called  to  order, 
the  presence  of  the  young  man,  Frank  McHugh,  had  been 
objected  to,  but  O’Brien  said  he  was  his  Secretary,  and  in- 
sisted he  should  remain.  Subsequently  McHugli,  a tall, 
very  juvenile  personage,  with  sandy  hair  and  blue  eyes — a 
mere  boy,  in  point  of  fact — was  directed  to  act  as  Secretary, 
and  fabricate  a record  of  proceedings  which  would  show  to 
outsiders,  should  chance  reveal  the  fact  of  a meeting  being 
held,  transaction  of  business  on  some  entirely  different  mat- 
ter than  the  murder  of  Thomas  and  the  Majors. 

Then,  all  having  been  arranged,  the  Mollies  adjourned 
to  dinner,  of  which  they  partook  in  Clark’s  dining-room 
below. 

Kehoe  enjoyed  his  food,  and  remarked  to  McKenna,  in  a 
low  voice  : “ I think  the  reign  of  the  Modocs  is  coinin’  to  an 
end,  and  Irishmen  will  soon  have  law  in  Mahanoy  City,  as 
in  other  parts  of  the  State  ! ” 

The  King  of  the  Mollies  was  elate  and  jubilant,  and  the 
operative  was  compelled  to  appear  so,  but  he  was  far  from 
feeling  content  with  the  share  Kehoe  had  put  upon  him. 
It  would  not  do  to  refuse,  nor  was  it  safe  to  exhibit  reluc- 
tance. 

When  my  agent  reached  home,  he  found  the  Mollies  ex- 
periencing most  intense  excitement,  caused  by  a report  of 
Ned  Monaghan,  that  the  Coal  and  Iron  Company  had  sent 
I for  and  secured  policemen,  from  a distance,  all  heavily 
jj  armed,  and  stationed  them  at  their  different  colleries.  To 
j this  was  added  the  story  of  Gibbons,  that  the  Governor  had 
p ordered  out  the  Militia,  to  support  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police, 

i .... 

^ and  see  that  resumption  of  work  in  the  region  was  not  inter- 
fered with  on  the  part  of  the  members  of  the  Laborers’ 
Union,  or  others.  Even  then  forty  or  fifty  men,  loaded 
' down  with  repeating  rifles  and  ammunition,  were  alighting  at 


312 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN, 


the  depot.  Heisler,  they  said,  was  in  command  of  the 
police,  in  person.  One  who  has  not  seen  the  locality  and 
known  its  people  will  hardly  be  able  to  appreciate  the  uproar 
in  the  different  i)atches,  and  in  the  taverns  and  strongholds 
of  the  Mollies  under  such  a condition  of  affairs.  Men  were 
quite  wild,  and  flew  from  place  to  place,  with  reddened 
faces  and  determined  looks,  telling  the  news  to  their  breth- 
ren, and  eagerly  asking  what  was  to  be  done. 

Mike  Doyle  met  McKenna,  that  night,  at  his  boarding- 
house, and  at  once  proposed  to  be  one  of  the  men  to  go  to 
Mahanoy  City. 

Tom  Hurley  was  anxious  to  take  a part,  and  wanted  to 
deposit  his  card,  formerly  obtained  for  traveling  purposes, 
and  receive  the  “goods,”  so  that  he  might  be  eligible. 

The  detective,  before  he  retired,  the  night  of  the  first  of 
June,  sent  Monaghan  to  summon  Thomas  Munley,  of  Gil- 
berton,  a member  of  his  lodge,  with  orders  for  Munley  to 
notify  others  in  the  vicinity  to  meet  at  the  hall,  in  Shenan- 
doah, the  evening  of  the  third,  at  seven  o’clock.  The  Sec- 
retary personally  gave  notice  to  Gibbons  and  the  others  men- 
tioned that  their  presence  was  needed  on  the  occasion. 

Leaving  the  proceedings  connected  with  the  strike  of  the 
Mollies  and  the  members  of  the  Laborers’  Union  to  be  re- 
lated in  another  chapter,  I must  now  continue  the  incidents 
bearing  upon  the  attempt  to  murder  Wm.  M.  Thomas,  and 
carry  the  recital  to  completion. 

Monaghan  returned  from  Gilberton,  Wednesday,  saying 
he  had  notified  Thomas  Munley,  who  promised  to  inform 
the  others  of  what  was  wanted. 

The  night  of  the  third  of  June  came,  and,  from  the  turmoil 
prevalent  in  the  city,  the  Secretary  deemed  it  imprudent  to 
hold  the  division  meeting  at  the  usual  hall,  hence  the  mem- 
bers were  notified  to  gather  in  the  wood,  on  the  side  of 
Ringtown  Mountain,  north  of  the  city.  "When  McKenna 
reached  the  rendezvous  he  found  present  John  Gibbons, 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


313 


Thomas  Munley,  Darcey,  Monaghan,  Garvey,  and  Mike 
Doyle,  all  members  of  Shenandoah  Division,  and  soon  after 
the  opening  Tom  Hurley  came  along  and  joined  the  clan. 
Garvey  said  ; 

“ 1 suppose  ye  all  know  what’s  called  us  together,  an’  it 
only  rests  with  ye  to  make  a choice,  an’  as  McKenna  does 
not  care  to  do  it,  let  us  talk  among  ourselves,  an’  agree  who 
is  to  go  and  make  away  with  Thomas.” 

After  canvassing  the  subject,  it  was  decided  that  Gibbons, 
Doyle,  Hurley,  and  James  McKenna  should  go  to  Mahanoy 
City  on  the  business.  At  least  the  three  mentioned  were 
selected,  and  they  desired  the  Secretary’s  company,  which 
he  could  not  refuse  to  give.  The  date  fixed  for  departure 
was  the  evening  of  the  fifth  of  the  month.  When  this  pro- 
ceeding was  ended  the  body  adjourned,  at  nigh  eleven 
o’clock,  the  conspirators  going  into  town,  one  by  one,  as  on 
former  occasions,  in  order  that  the  citizens  might  not  see  too 
many  Mollies  together. 

The  next  morning  the  streets  were  filled  with  soldiers  and 
Coal  and  Iron  Police,  among  the  latter  being  Capt,  Heisler, 
but  that  made  no  difference.  The  arrangement  to  shoot 
Thomas  must  be  carried  out.  Gibbons  came  along  about 
four  in  the  afternoon,  armed  with  two  navy  revolvers,  se- 
cured from  Thompson  and  McCormick,  and,  at  about  half- 
past four,  the  same  day,  the  Mollies  set  out  on  foot  over  the 
mountain  for  Mahanoy  City.  They  could  not  have  selected 
a more  congenial  and  yet  more  unpleasant  night  for  the 
journey.  The  rain  was  falling  in  torrents  and  there  were 
heavy  shocks  of  thunder  and  sharp  bolts  of  lightning  in  the 
sky.  But,  after  walking  more  than  three  hours,  the  men 
reached  Clark’s  hotel,  in  Mahanoy,  where  they  found 
O’Brien  prepared  to  receive  them. 

While  trudging  over  the  wet  earth  and  slippery  rocks  the 
operative  had  concocted  a scheme,  which  he  believed  would 
surely  save  the  life  of  the  man,  Thomas,  and  relieve  his  mind 

14 


314  the  inquisition  of  ten. 

of  an  oppressive  weight.  x\s  soon  as  all  were  well  seated  in 
Clark’s  kitchen,  beyond  the  bar,  he  called  O’Brien  away  for 
a short  stroll.  They  went  around  the  corner,  and  McKenna 
said  to  the  leader  of  the  clan  in  Mahanoy  City : 

“ Do  you  mind  the  soldiers  in  the  strates,  an’  the  Coal 
Polace  ? ” 

“Yes,  I do  !”  answered  the  Bodymaster,  “an’  I don’t  half 
like  the  appearance  of  aither ! Its  all  owin’  to  the  mob,  I 
suppose ! ” 

“ Now,  O’Brien,  I’m  as  willin’  to  sell  my  life  for  the  good 
of  the  order  as  you  are,  or  as  any  man  can  be,  but  it  looks 
the  height  of  folly  for  us  to  undertake  this  job  on  Thomas 
while  the  soldiers  are  around  ! If  we  kill  him,  as  we  may, 
an’  make  the  laste  noise  over  it,  we’ll  be  pounced  upon  at 
once  by  the  Militia  or  old  Heisler — or  both,  perhaps — an’  then 
we’ll  be  caught  and  hanged  ! Isn’t  the  life  of  any  wan  of  us 
worth  that  of  a dozen  like  Bully  Bill  ? To  spake  truth,  I’m 
in  favor  of  all  of  us  goin’  quietly  home,  an’  trying  for  Thomas 
on  another  occasion.  The  odds  are  too  many  against  us 
this  time  ! ” 

O’Brien  cogitated  over  the  change  suggested  for  a 
moment  and  then  responded  : 

“You’re  right,  McKenna,  as  you  always  are  ! Troth  ! as 
you  say,  my  life  is  better  nor  those  of  a dozen  like  Bill 
Thomas,  an’  I quite  agree  wid  you  that  the  very  best  thing 
to  be  done  is  to  do  nothing — at  laste  for  this  night  ! ” 

The  two  men  soon  went  back  to  the  Emerald  House,  and 
to  the  kitchen.  Frank  McHugh,  the  Secretary  of  Mahanoy 
City  Division,  had  just  arrived,  and  O’Brien  made  the  proposi- 
tion to  Hurley,  Gibbons,  and  Doyle  in  precisely  the  words 
previously  employed  by  the  detective.  He  explained  the 
difficulties  before  them,  in  so  forcible  a manner  that  even 
Hurley,  alwavs  the  first  to  enter  a fight  and  the  last  to  give 
it  up,  agreed  it  was  for  the  best  to  retrace  their  steps  to 
Shenandoah  and  not  be  seen  by  any  one  in  Mahanoy. 


THE  INQUISITION  OF  TEN. 


315 


McKenna  said  he  was  firmly  of  the  opinion  that  the  work 
should  be  deferred,  but  did  not  like  to  assume  the  responsi- 
bility of  ordering  it  without  a previous  conference  with 
O’Brien.  Now  that  O’Brien  was  good  enough  to  be  the  first 
to  put  forward  the  idea  he  felt  willing  to  make  known  that 
he  held  the  same  view  of  the  subject.  This  was  peculiarly 
flattering  to  O’Brien,  and  forever  sealed  his  lips  as  to  the 
real  originator  of  the  plan,  and  was  a clincher  of  the  pro- 
posed settlement.  It  was  thus  decided.  After  a few  calls 
at  Clark’s  bar  for  refreshments,  the  weary  men  set  out  in 
the  darkness  for  the  return  to  Shenandoah. 

While  going  home  the  four  Mollies  were  halted  by  the 
police  at  Foundry  Colliery,  but  after  a short  parley  were  per- 
mitted to  resume  their  tedious  journey.  To  avoid  similar 
annoyances  the  party  struck  into  a narrow  path  over  the 
mountain.  On  the  way  they  overtook  a stranger,  carrying  a 
small  paper  parcel.  At  first  he  was  shy  of  them,  probably 
! thinking  they  might  want  to  murder  him,  but  McKenna  as- 
sured the  stranger  they  were  harmless  fellows,  lost  in  the 

1 

I darkness,  and  if  he  had  no  objection,  as  they  seemed  going 
I in  the  same  direction,  they  would  keep  in  company.  The  man 
i said  but  little.  He  “knew  every  foot  of  the  ground,”  how- 
j ever,  and  demonstrated  the  fact,  when  in  the  vicinity  of  Lani- 
!'  gan’s  Patch,  by  missing  his  bearings  and  finally  bringing  him- 
j self  and  companions  into  a marsh,  where  they  stuck  fast  in 
I'  the  mire  to  the  imminent  danger  of  their  boots  and  damage 
t to  their  clothing  and  tempers.  After  wandering  about  in  the 
I swamp,  running  against  trees  and  snags,  and  occasionally 
i falling  down  in  the  mud  and  water,  they  escaped  from  the 

(place  and  met  no  further  accident.  It  was  about  midnight 
when  McKenna  turned  in  at  Cooney’s,  in  Shenandoah,  and 
" sought  his  bed-chamber  and  much-needed  sleep. 

I 

ij 


4 


3i6  another  victim  of  the  mollies. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 

For  a few  days  after  the  return  of  the  unsuccessful  delega/* 
tion  engaged  in  the  work  of  killing  Wm.  M.  Thomas,  in 
accordance  with  the  order  of  the  Mahanoy  City  Convention, 
quiet  reigned  and  nothing  further  was  done  in  that  direction. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  the  date  fixed  for  the  assassina- 
tion was  Saturday,  the  fifth  of  June.  From  the  fact  that 
McKenna  judged  it  foolhardy,  on  account  of  the  presence 
of  Militia,  to  make  the  trial,  it  had  been  temporarily  aban- 
doned. In  truth,  the  assassination  was  just  as  practicable 
then  as  it  ever  would  be,  from  the  isolated  position  in  which 
the  proposed  victim  was  working.  It  served  the  detective’s 
purpose  to  have  the  matter  rest,  at  least  until  his  reports 
could  reach  the  Agency  in  Philadelphia,  when  he  hoped, 
should  the  efforts  be  renewed,  there  would  come  officers  on 
the  ground  to  capture  the  would-be  murderers,  or  at  least 
save  Thomas’  life.  But  McKenna  had  no  means  of  know- 
ing how  extremely  busy  Capt.  Linden  and  his  Coal  and 
Iron  force  were  at  that  particular  moment.  The  detective 
was  only  inside  the  Mollie  ring,  and  his  friends  were  kept  as 
much  as  possible  in  the  dark  as  to  police  movements.  In 
reality,  he  had  about  all  that  he  could  attend  to — and  so  did 
the  members  of  the  open  force.  None  found  much  leisure 
for  amusement. 

The  Mollie  Maguires,  having  passed  sentence  of  death 
upon  Thomas,  it  was  not  to  be  forgotten.  Die  he  must. 
Some  delay  might  occur,  but  the  end  in  view  was  never 
relinquished.  Meanwhile,  Hurley,  Gibbons,  and  Doyle  were 
taken  over  to  Mahanoy  City  and  boarded,  at  the  expense 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


317 


of  the  murderous  society,  in  the  house  of  a Mrs.  Cosgrove 
until  such  time  as  O’Brien,  the  Bodymaster,  might  have  every- 
thing prepared  for  them.  At  the  end  of  three  days’  stay, 
according  to  Kehoe’s  order,  O’Brien  having  signally  failed 
in  leading  them  up  to  their  prey,  the  trio  went  back  to  Shen- 
andoah. There  they  tarried  for  a time,  doing  absolutely 
nothing. 

In  the  interim  McKenna  experienced  a return  of  disease, 
for  several  days  was  confined  to  his  room,  and  much  longer 
to  his  house.  He  suffered  intensely,  and  was  under  the 
doctor’s  care,  part  of  the  time  being  delirious.  That  jour- 
ney over  the  mountains,  exposure  to  wet  and  cold  air,  with 
the  accompanying  excitement  and  mental  pressure,  all  had 
their  share  in  inducing  a relapse  of  the  intermittent  fever, 
with  which  he  had  formerly  been  attacked,  and  for  a time  it 
threatened  to  assume  a typhoid  and  very  dangerous  phase. 

About  the  first  day  that  the  detective  was  strong  enough 
to  sit  up  in  his  chair,  take  an  occasional  walk  to  the  door, 
and  enjoy  the  warm  sunshine,  his  heart  was  gladdened  with 
the  news  that  McAndrew  had  come  home,  his  job  in  Luzerne 
County  having  terminated.  McKenna  was  never  more 
pleased  in  his  life  than  when  he  grasped  the  hand  of  his 
superior  officer,  and  McAndrew  seemed  equally  joyful  to  see 
the  face  of  his  friend  and  division  Secretary.  Their  interview, 
which  occurred  at  Cooney’s,  was  long  and  confidential. 
McKenna  informed  the  President  of  nearly  everything  that 
had  happened  during  his  absence,  including  the  orders  the 
members  were  under  from  the  Mahanoy  Convention  to  kill 
Thomas,  and  at  once  gave  into  his  possession  all  the  lodge 
books  and  papers.  It  appeared  to  him,  when  this  was  accom- 
plished, that  health  had  been  restored  as  through  the  working 
of  a miracle,  and  the  blood  coursed  more  calmly  in  his  veins. 
At  least  a very  heavy  load  was  lifted  from  his  overburdened 
mind,  and  he  breathed  more  freely  than  for  weeks  before, 
counting  from  the  day  of  McAndrew’ s departure  for  Wilkes- 


3i8 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


barre.  He  held  no  longer  the  place  of  acting  Bodymaster, 
and  thanked  his  lucky  stars  that  he  did  not. 

Time  passed  until  the  27th  of  June.  McAndrew  had 
resumed  active  leadership  of  the  Mollies  in  Shenandoah,  and 
the  detective  yet  continued  ill,  but  was  apparently  fast  con- 
valescing. He  had  been  sitting  at  the  door  of  his  boarding- 
house, enjoying  the  beautiful  sunset,  and  wishing  that  his 
strength  were  once  fully  restored,  when  he  heard  footsteps, 
and  soon  McAndrew  made  his  appearance  and  took  a seat 
near  him.  They  had  only  just  begun  talking  of  the  weather 
and  other  matters,  when  Tom  Hurley  came  up  and  joined 
the  party.  Shortly  afterward  John  Morris,  a very  young, 
but  solid  man,  with  plenty  of  yellow  hair,  blue  eyes,  and 
heavy  features,  formed  one  of  the  group.  Then  Mike  Doyle 
arrived,  as  he  said,  jist  from  Number  Three  Hill.”  Mike 
Care)^  was  already  inside  Cooney’s,  and  emerged  from  the 
house,  adding  one  more  to  the  company.  Following  quickly 
a few  words  on  comparatively  trivial  subjects,  McAndrew 
inquired  : 

“ Are  any  of  yez  going  to  Mahanoy  City  ? ” 

“ I am  ! ” exclaimed  Hurley. 

These  words  were  echoed  by  Doyle  and  Morris. 

“Well,  that’s  jist  as  it  should  be  ; for  I have  orders  from 
Kehoe,  if  any  man  hesitates  to  obey  me  commands,  to  have 
him  cut  off  for  life  at  the  very  next  meeting ! ” Then  he 
added,  turning  to  Carey  : 

“You  must  go  to  Number  Three,  and  tell  John  Gibbons, 
who  is  now  at  home,  that  I want  to  see  him  here  directly  ! ” 

“ All  right  ! ” answered  Carey,  and  he  withdrew. 

The  men  left  with  the  detective  to  await  the  arriv^al  of  Gib- 
bons did  not  say  much  to  each  other.  They  were  more  reti- 
cent than  usual.  The  operative  did  not  feel  at  all  like  talking. 
His  active  thoughts  were  trying  to  work  out  a difficult  prob- 
lem, something  like  this  : In  what  manner  could  he  forward 
news  to  Thomas  that  the  assassins  were  again  on  his  track  ? 


ANOT//ER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  319 

How  should  he  telegraph  Mr.  PVanklin,  that  he  might  advise 
Linden  to  protect  Bully  Bill  at  the  hazard  of  his  own  life  ? 
The  only  hope  left  was,  that  Carey,  who  had  been  his  constant 
nurse  and  attendant,  might  be  needed  to  go  to  Mahanoy  with 
the  rest,  in  case  Gibbons  were  to  refuse.  He  looked  upon 
the  golden  sun,  as  it  went  down  behind  the  somber  hills,  and 
just  the  last  gliir.pse  he  caught  of  the  orb,  it  appeared  to  him 
that  its  color  had  changed  to  a blood  red.  Would  it  rise  on 
murder  and  violence  ? His  heart  misgave  him  that  it  might, 
unless  something  could  be  thought  of  to  reverse  the  present 
order  of  things.  The  detective  was  sure  that  no  suspicion 
yet  attached  to  him.  He  was  known  to  be  sick  and  incapable 
of  physicial  exertion,  and  McAndrew  was  there,  at  the  head 
of  the  division.  His  orders  must  be  listened  to  and  obeyed. 
In  his  soul  McKenna  wished  Gibbons_might  be  absent,  or 
unable,  from  some  cause,  to  carry  out  his  part  of  the  arrange- 
ment. But  his  spirits  sunk  and  his  form  trembled,  so  that 
he  had  to  complain  of  a returning  chill,  caused  by  the  night 
air,  when  he  saw  Carey,  side  by  side  with  Gibbons,  making 
his  way  up  the  path  in  the  direction  of  the  house.  In  a few 
minutes  Gibbons  reported.  After  the  usual  greetings,  he 
took  off  his  hat,  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  forehead, 
and  inquired  : 

’ “Well,  McAndrew,  what’s  the  matther  now?  ” 

The  Bodymaster  cast  his  eyes  around,  to  see  that  all 
within  hearing  were  Mollies,  was  evidently  satisfied,  and 
answered  : 

; “ These  men  here — Morris,  Doyle,  and  Hurley — are  going, 

I by  order  of  the  County  Delegate  and  our  division,  to 

1 Mahanoy  City,  to  shoot  Bill  Thomas,  in  the  morning,  as  he 

goes  to  his  work ! I want  to  know  if  3'^ou  are  to  be  along  ? ” 
“I’m  agreed,”  said  Gibbons,  “as  I don’t  want  to  stop 
I around  this  neighborhood,  anyhow,  for  I think  I may  be  ar- 
rested for  a few  words  I hev  had  with  one  of  the  bosses  of 
I Hecksher's  Colliery — the  fool  thinks  I mane  to  shoot  him ! 


320  ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 

I don’t  care  if  I take  part  in  the  matter  I Jist  put  a man  in 
my  i)lace  in  the  breast  an’  I’m  wid  yez  ! ” 

“ Carey  can  take  a hand  at  that ; so  there’s  nothin’  to 
prevent  the  four  of  ye  lavin’  at  once!”  said  McAndrew. 
“ An’  Dan  Sweeney  shall  work  for  Morris,  that  he  may  miss 
no  time — an’  Hurley  is  not  at  work — so  he’ll  lose  nothing. 
Are  ye  well  prepared  for  the  business  ? Have  ye  all  got 
proper  weapons  ? ” 

The  responses  were  in  the  affirmative,  though  no  pistols 
were  exhibited,  and  it  only  remained  for  Gibbons,  who  was 
in  his  shirt  sleeves,  to  get  a coat. 

“ I say,  McKenna  I You  can  lend  me  the  old  gray  coat  ? 
You’ll  have  no  use  for  it  until  to  morrow,  when  I’ll  give  it 
back  to  ye  ! ” 

This  was  said  by  Gibbons. 

“ The  coat  hangs  within ! Jist  rache  it,  an’  wear  it,  an’ 
welcome,”  said  the  operative.  To  refuse  would  have  seemed 
particularly  suspicious. 

The  prevailing  twilight  deepened  into  darkness,  and  still 
the  Mollies  had  not  started  on  their  errand  of  bloodshed, 
but,  at  about  nine  o’clock,  the  stars  then  shining  out  bright- 
ly, gave  them  light  enough  by  which  to  see  the  pathway, 
and,  bidding  the  Bodymaster,  Secretary,  and  Mike  Carey 
good-by,  they  quietly  departed. 

When  their  retreating  footsteps  could  no  longer  be  heard, 
McAndrew  ordered  the  operative  to  go  to  bed,  “ unless  he 
wanted  more  chills.”  and  took  his  own  route  homeward. 

^‘Yes,  I’ll  retire  directly,”  answered  McKenna,  who 
looked  around  to  find  Carey  lightly  dozing  on  the  doorstep. 
He  had  no  thought  of  going  to  his  room  without  at  least 
making  an  effort,  even  in  his  weak  condition,  to  save 
Thomas  or  have  the  assassins  arrested  in  the  act.  His  plans 
were  indistinctly  formed,  but  he  was  determined  to  make  a 
desperate  movement  in  some  direction.  Linden’s  where- 
abouts, since  his  own  recent  illness,  the  detective  knew 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  32 1 

nothing  of.  The  only  plan,  therefore,  possible  of  accom- 
plishment, was  to  send  off  a cipher  dispatch  to  Mr.  Frank- 
lin. In  default  of  that  he  must  try  and  deposit  a written 
message  in  the  post-office,  addressed  to  his  Philadelphia 
correspondent.  The  latter  must  naturally  be  too  late,  still 
it  would  show  that  he  was  trying  to  do  his  duty  by  the  man 
whose  life  stood  in  jeopardy.  Waiting  until  he  thought 
Carey  was  soundly  asleep,  McKenna  noiselessly  arose  from 
his  bench,  walked  rather  unsteadily  to  the  door,  and  tried  to 
pass  into  the  house  beyond  the  slumbering  Mollie.  As  he 
did  so,  Carey  roused  himself,  hurriedly  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
said  : 

“ That’s  right ! Let’s  get  to  bed  ! ” 

“ I’m  not  slapy,  an’  am  goin’  to  write  a letther  to  me 
sister  before  I retire,”  said  McKenna. 

“ Very  well  ! ” responded  Carey,  “ an’  as  I’m  to  slape  wid 
ye  the  night,  ye  kin  sit  up  and  write,  while  I’ll  jist  rest  me 
for  the  morrow’s  work  for  Morris  ! ” 

Here  was  a predicament.  The  man  was  right.  Transient 
visitors  were  monopolizing  the  spare  beds  in  the  house,  and 
Cooney  had  provided,  before  retiring,  that  Carey  would  share 
the  detective’s  couch.  What  should  he  do  ? 

“Upon  the  whole,”  finally  said  the  operative,  “I  don’t 
feel  slapy — you  see  I’ve  had  rather  more  of  the  bed,  the  past 
wake,  than  wur  pleasant — an’  so  I’ll  sit  in  here,  an’  rest  me 
eyes,  without  any  light,  for  a while.  You  had  better  go  up, 
so  as  to  be  arley  awake  fur  your  breakfast  ! ” 

“ Oh,  as  fur  that  matther,  divil  a bit  do  I care  fur  slape, 
aither  ! The  bedroom  is  close,  this  fine  avenin’,  an’  I’ll 
kape  ye  company  until  it’s  niade  a little  cooler ! ” 

And  Carey  placed  his  knees  against  one  door-post  and 
his  head  and  back  to  the  other,  thus  completely  blocking  up 
the  passage-way,  and  soon  begun  to  snore  like  the  good 
sleeper  that  he  was. 

Every  moment  he  thus  wasted  passed  like  a long  hour  to 

14* 


322 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


the  impatient  operative.  The  obstinacy  of  his  companion 
was  enough  to  provoke  the  ire  of  a more  tranquil  mind  than 
he  was  the  possessor  of,  and  he  nervously  paced  the  floor 
of  the  small  apartment,  while  his  thoughts  fairly  burnt  in  his 
brain.  Why  was  he  ill  ? Why  so  weak  that  he  could  not 
thrust  the  miserable  Carey  out  of  his  way,  or  gag  and  bind 
him  with  cords  until  he  could  fly  to  the  telegraph  office  and 
send  off  that  telegram  ? The  idea  of  stunning  him,  as  he 
slept,  with  a blow  on  the  head  from  a club,  even  suggested 
itself,  but  was  soon  given  up  as  too  cruel  for  the  situation. 
There  were  no  means  of  getting  out  of  the  room,  excepting 
through  a window,  and  when  he  sought  an  exit  in  that  way, 
Carey  awoke  once  more  and  stared  about  him. 

“ Are  ye  gettin’  limy  agin,  McKenna,  that  ye  want  to 
wait  there  by  the  windy,  wid  the  cool  air  blowin’  on  ye  ? 
You’ll  have  more  of  them  chills  ! Sthand  back  ! ” 

This  was  a sensible  order  for  the  sick  man  to  obey,  and  it 
would  cause  a suspicion  of  insanity  to  refuse,  hence  he  re- 
sumed his  walk. 

Later  he  turned  to  Carey  and  said  : 

I tell  ye,  agin,  ye  had  best  get  to  bed  ! If  ye  don’t, 
there’ll  be  one  miner  late  at  the  shaft-house  in  the  mornin’ ! 
Lave  me  to  myself!  I can’t  slape,  the  night,  wid  the  idea 
of  the  work  that’s  to  be  done  restin’  on  me  conscience,  so 
I’ll  stay  below,  where  it  is  comfortable  for  me  I Why  in 
thunder  don’t  you  go  to  bed  ? ” 

“ Faix,”  replied  Carey,  “ an’  if  the  truth  must  be  towld, 
I’m  ordered  by  the  docther  never  to  lave  ye  until  the 
mornin’.  He  says  ye  are  touched  in  the  head  wid  the  faver 
an’  the  medicin’,  an’  more’s  the  token,  I think  he’s  quite 
right,  for  wasn’t  ye  within  an  ace  of  thro  win’  yerself  out  at 
the  windy,  only  jist  now?  Oh,  no  I Mike  Carey  knows  how 
to  obey  orders,  an’  wont  give  ye  a chance  to  make  away 
wid  yerself  until  ye  have  back  yer  own  siven  sinses.” 

‘‘  The  divil  take  you,  an’  the  docther  too  ! I’m  just  as 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES.  323 


sound  and  sane  this  blessed  minute  as  you  are — or  he  * 
aither — an’  all  I want  is  pace  and  quiet,  an’  that  ye  same 
detarmined  I sha’n’t  have  ! ” 

The  detective,  now  completely  angry,  began  to  walk  the 
room  with  rapid  strides  and  gaze  about  him  in  the  darkness, 
searching  for  some  weapon  with  which  to  demolish  his  too 
careful  guardian  and  nurse. 

Seeing  this,  Carey  shut  the  door,  locked  it,  put  the  key  in 
his  pocket,  and,  walking  up  to  McKenna,  took  him  gently 
by  the  arm,  saying  : 

“Come  now,  be  aisy  ! Don’t  look  so  fierce,  but  come 
wid  me  to  your  room  an’  go  straight  to  bed  ! ” 

Had  Carey  known  exactly  the  condition  of  the  detective’s 
mind,  he  might  have  hesitated.  It  was  well  he  did  not,  and 
he  persisted  in  his  cajoling  and  pacificatory  measures,  until, 
the  ludicrousness  of  the  situation  striking  McKenna’s 
thoughts,  he  burst  into  a fit  of  loud  laughter,  and  consented 
— as  that  was  the  only  alternative — to  go  to  his  room.  But 
neither  of  the  men  slept.  One  turned  and  tossed  feverishly 
and  uneasily  in  the  bed,  and  made  such  a disturbance  that 
the  other  was  no  sooner  in  a blissful  slumber  than  he  was 
as  suddenly  aroused.  At  last,  in  sheer  desperation,  Carey 
arose,  dressed  himself,  and  the  operative  was  in  hopes  he 
would  go  elsewhere,  but  he  did  not.  On  the  contrary, 
planting  the  back  of  the  only  chair  in  the  room  against  the 
closed  and  bolted  door,  he  leaned  backward,  resting  his 
head  near  the  latch,  and  soon  slept  soundly. 

It  was  not  until  nearly  sunrise  that  McKenna,  almost 
crazy  with  excitement  and  suspense,  was  left  to  himself. 
Then  Carey  had  to  get  his  breakfast  and  be  off  to  the  col- 
liery. It  was  now  too  late  for  McKenna  to  act,  had  he  been 
bodily  able,  and  he  sunk  down,  helpless,  on  his  pillow,  per-  . 
fectly  exhausted ; and  deep  lethargy  came  to  his  physical 
and  mental  relief. 

After  breakfast,  the  morning  of  the  28th — a meal  that, 


324 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


strange  to  say,  the  operative  ate  with  a better  appetite  than 
usual — he  went  to  his  room  to  prepare  a report.  Carefully 
locking  the  door,  and  hanging  his  hat  over  the  keyhole, 
which  he  had  a shrewd  suspicion  the  chambermaid  was  in 
the  habit  of  interviewing  occasionally,  to  find  out,  if  possible, 
the  business  in  which  he  was  engaged  while  fastened  within, 
he  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  started  to  write. 

That  hat  was  a terrible  eyesore  to  the  aforesaid  maid-of- 
all-work,  and  she  wondered  many  a time,  as  she  subse- 
quently confessed,  “ How  it  was  that  McKenna  made  his 
room  so  dark,  exceptin’  he  were  holding  converse  with  the 
devil  ! ” 

It  was  light  enough  in  the  room  for  the  detective,  how- 
ever, and  the  felt  hat  sufficed  to  keep  prying  eyes  from  dis- 
covering his  employment.  On  this  particular  occasion  the 
agent  was  doomed  to  disappointment,  as  he  had  hardly  be- 
gun his  highly  important  correspondence  when  he  beheld 
Mike  Doyle  coming  toward  the  house.  Hastily  throwing 
the  writing  materials  into  his  valise,  and  carefully  securing 
that  depository,  he  unlocked  his  door  and  patiently  waited, 
knowing  that  Doyle  would  probably  wish  to  see  him  alone. 
In  this  supposition  he  was  right,  as  the  man  soon  afterward 
climbed  wearily  up  the  stairs.  Doyle  occupied  a seat. 
McKenna  once  more  shut  the  door,  and,  as  soon  as  his 
visitor  was  a little  rested,  asked  : 

‘‘Well,  Mike,  I suppose  ye  have  missed  him  again  ?” 

“ No  ! We  fixed  him  jist  as  he  came  into  the  colliery 
stable ! ” 

“An’  is  that  thrue  ? ” inquired  the  detective^  trying  to 
appear  cool  and  indifferent. 

“ Yes  ! But  I must  not  stop  here  palaverin’  wid  you,  when 
the  rest  of  the  boys  are  on  the  mountain,  jist  starvin’  wid 
hunger  and  thirst  ! ” 

“ Well,  I’ll  get  some  whisky  an’  go  up  wid  ye ! ” 

“ You  go  wid  me  ? Why,  you’re  sick,  lad ; an’  last  night 


int  just  as  Ju'  came  into  the  colliery  stable! 


'ui,,  I - 


t 


> 


i.  . 


V* 


V. 


ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES,  325 

I said  to  Gibbons  that  ye  looked  like  a passible  braze  might 
blow  ye  away  like  a flash  o’  smoke  ! ” 

“ But  I’m  betther  this  mornin’ — have  passed  the  crisis  of 
I me  disase,  the  docther  has  it — an’  a bit  of  exercise  will  do  me 
no  haiTiim  in  the  worruld  ! ” 

j “Well,  if  you  can  sthand  it  I ken,”  said  Doyle,  and,  after 
I securing  a little  extra  clothing  for  himself,  the  detective 
! started  for  Ringtown  Mountain.  Happily,  the  spot  was  no 
more  than  three  hundred  yards  distant  from  Cooney’s  resi- 
dence, and  they  were  soon  in  the  presence  of  Hurley,  Gib- 
bons, and  Morris,  who  were  found  sitting  upon  logs,  rocks, 
and  the  ground,  all  covered  with  dust  and  perspiration,  com- 
pletely exhausted  by  their  morning’s  work  and  the  succeed- 
ing rapid  journey  from  the  Patch  to  Shenandoah. 

I Tom  Hurley  was  the  first  to  talk  of  the  murder.  In 
j answer  to  McKenna’s  query,  he  said,  in  substance  : 

“ Oh,  Bully  Bill’s  safe  enough  for  the  coroner  by  this  time  ! 
When  we  got  to  Mahanoy  City,  we  went  direct  to  Mike 
I O’Brien’s  house,  as  told  by  Frank  McAndrew,  an’  Mike  took 
us  to  Mrs.  Costello’s,  where  he  got  us  some  whisky  and  some- 
! thin’  to  eat,  and  a bottle  of  the  raal  stuff  to  take  wid  us,  an’ 
j about  daylight,  with  his  directions,  we  started  for  the  Patch, 

J where  Thomas  lived.  We  went  and  sat  by  the  drift-mouth, 
an’  watched  Thomas’  house  until  he  came  out  and  went  up 
to  the  colliery  stable,  the  big  doors  of  which  were  sprung 
wide  open.  After  he  had  been  in  a while,  an’  talked  wid  the 
stable  boss,  an’  the  boss  had  left,  we  jist  walked  slowly  up  to 
I the  place.  I stepped  into  the  side  door  of  the  stable,  through 
the  blacksmith’s  shop,  an’  Gibbons  in  the  other,  an’  blazed 
away  at  him,  as  he  stood,  wid  one  hand  on  a horse’s  mane. 
The  fellow  was  game  to  the  last.  He  had  no  weapon,  but 
he  just  threw  his  black  hat  in  my  face,  an’  then,  after  bein’  hit 
three  or  four  times,  ran  behind  the  horses.  I fired  again,  an’ 
he  was  worse  hit,  an’  rather  staggered.  After  that.  Gibbons 
! and  Doyle  sent  him  three  or  four,  an’  he  fell,  so  did  wan 


326  ANOTHER  VICTIM  OF  THE  MOLLIES. 


of  the  horses,  an’  then  John  Morris,  he  came  up,  put  in  his 
pistol  an’  fired  the  last  shot.  Bully  Bill  never  said  wan  word 
afther  that,  but  lay  quiet  like,  partly  under  the  horse  that 
was  down,  I have  an  idea  that  Bill  Thomas  won’t  shoot 
any  more  of  us  in  this  world.  He’s  surely  done  for  ! ” 

The  conversation  was  continued  by  the  other  men.  John 
Morris  said  that  Doyle  put  in  his  shots  like  a man,  but 
Gibbons  turned  as  pale  as  a sheet  of  paper.  In  turn  Hurley 
and  Doyle  asserted  that  John  Morris  had  shaken  so  with 
fear,  when  aiming  at  Thomas,  that  he  shot  and  severely 
injured  a second  dumb  beast.  Each  one  made  his  state- 
ment, but  the  several  relations  were  of  the  same  general 
tenor,  that  Thomas  had  been  killed,  that  morning,  at  the 
colliery  stable  in  Shoemaker’s  Patch. 

'Fhe  detective,  after  hearing  the  story  of  all  the  men  and 
listening  with  evident  interest,  putting  in  a word  to  the 
effect  that  the  victim  had  been  rightly  served — while,  in  his 
heart,  he  felt  that  a dastardly  murder  had  been  committed — 
returned  to  Shenandoah,  hunted  out  Frank  McAndrew,  gave 
him  news  of  the  condition  of  their  companions  and  their 
need  of  some  kind  of  refreshment.  He  concluded  : 

“You  get  them  some  food,  an’  I’ll  take  up  some  more 
whisky  ! ” 

McAndrew  consented,  went  to  his  house,  procured  a sup- 
ply of  cold  boiled  ham,  bread  and  butter  and  cheese,  while 
McKenna  bought  a second  bottle  of  good  liquor,  and  they 
went  in  company  to  the  mountain.  In  McAndrew’s  pres- 
ence, the  detective  heard  another  rehearsal  of  the  particu- 
lars of  the  attack  and  its  termination,  not  materially  differing 
from  the  one  already  detailed. 

Gibbons  wanted  McAndrew  and  McKenna  to  give  him 
a card,  and  he  would  leave  at  once,  stopping  at  Kehoe’s  to 
secure  money  for  traveling  expenses.  Having  in  view  the 
continuance  of  the  assassin  within  his  convenient  reach,  the 
Secretary  said  he  had  no  printed  blanks,  but  when  he,  Gib- 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


327 


bons,  had  once  located,  he  could  send  him  a letter  and  he 
would  by  that  time  be  able  to  forward  the  card  duly  attested 
by  the  County  Delegate.  To  this  arrangement  the  man 
assented,  and,  in  a short  time,  after  obtaining  change  of 
clothing — taking  care  to  return  McKenna’s  coat — Gibbons 
departed  and  the  rest  of  the  assassins  separated,  each  person 
taking  a different  route,  for  their  homes.  Hurley,  Doyle, 
and  Morris  were  to  return  to  the  colliery  that  evening,  and 
resume  their  usual  avocations,  which  they  did. 

The  same  day,  my  agent  sent  to  Philadelphia  a succinct 
account  of  all  he  had  seen  and  heard.  It  was  wonderful 
how  McKenna  improved  in  health.  The  excitement  of  the 
I morning  and  night  had  seemingly  checked  his. chill,  put  a 
I stop  to  the  fever,  his  appetite  increased,  and  strength  and 
I nerve  soon  resumed  sway.  In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Linden 
I reached  Shenandoah,  and,  receiving  the  signal  from 
i McKenna,  followed  him  to  their  place  of  meeting  and  ver- 
! bally  received  the  information  the  detective  had  already 
I dispatched  to  Mr.  Franklin. 

The  next  official  visit  made  by  Linden  was  to  Shoe- 
; maker’s  Patch. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

HOLDING  THE.  BREAKER. 

When  the  troubles  of  the  first  of  June  arose,  and  the  Mili- 
tia were  ordered  out  by  Governor  Hartranft,  Gen.  Pleasant 
called  Mr.  Linden  to  him  and  said  : 

“ I see  by  a report  of  Mr.  Pinkerton’s  agent  in  Shenan- 
doah— and  we  also  have  it  from  other  good  authority — that 
the  strikers,  including  the  Mollie  Maguires  and  the  members 


328 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


of  the  Miners’  and  Laborers’  Union,  are  openly  threatening 
the  destruction  of  some  of  the  company’s  more  expensive 
works  in  Schuylkill  County,  among  the  rest  West  Shenan- 
doah Colliery,  which  is  only  defended  by  two  private 
watchmen.  Can  your  men  occupy  and  hold  that  break- 
er ? ” 

“ We  cfan,  or  die  in  the  attempt  ! ” was  the  characteristic 
response. 

“I  admire  your  courage,  Mr.  Linden,”  said  Gen.  Pleas- 
ant, “ but  I am  somewhat  in  doubt  as  to  the  result.  How- 
ever, there  is  no  other  course  to  pursue.  Your  men,  headed 
by  yourself,  armed  with  the  Winchester  rifles  and  navy 
sixes,  must  make  the  trial ! ” 

‘‘We  will  leave  on  the  next  train,”  Linden  answered. 

And  they  did  go  to  Shenandoah,  as  was  reported  to  Mc- 
Kenna by  Gibbons  and  Hurley,  arriving  there  the  day  follow- 
ing the  one  on  which  the  first  attack  upon  Thomas  was  to 
have  been  made.  The  militia-men  were  daily  expected, 
but  it  was  questioned  in  the  minds  of  some  whether  its  mem- 
bers were  all  to  be  depended  upon  in  an  emergency.  That 
there  were  relatives  of  Mollies  in  the  ranks  was  well  known. 
Capt.  Linden  and  eighteen  men  took  charge  of  West  Shen- 
andoah Colliery,  with  the  determination  to  defend  and  keep 
it  working,  preventing  the  miners  from  being  driven  away, 
if  among  the  possibilities  to  do  so. 

The  second  of  June  the  Mollies  and  other  strikers  made 
great  preparations  for  a dance  at  Number  Three  Hill.  AVord 
was  sent  by  special  messengers  that  all  who  could  should 
assemble  on  the  night  of  that  day  for  a monster  working- 
man’s parade,  which  was  appointed  for  the  third.  Early  in 
the  morning  the  crowd  began  pouring  in.  There  were  dele- 
gates from  Connor’s  Patch,  Loss  Creek,  Number  Three, 
Raven  Run,  and  Griscom’s  Patch,  as  well  as  from  Shenan- 
doah. In  the  evening  fires  blazed  from  all  the  hillsides  sur- 
rounding the  collieries.  There  was  the  greatest  and  wildest 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER.  329 

excitement.  The  labor  picnic  at  Number  Three  had  seven 
or  eight  hundred  persons  in  attendance. 

There  was  plenty  of  music,  and  drink,  and  dancing,  but 
the  principal  work  seemed  to  be  organizing  for  the  exercises 
of  the  next  day,  and  the  evident  object  of  these  was  to 
frighten  people,  who  were  quietly  at  work,  away  from  the 
mines.  The  presence  of  the  roughest  characters  in  the 
country,  armed  to  the  teeth — some  having  as  many  as  three 
revolvers  displayed  ostentatiously  in  their  belts — and  the 
open  talk  of  the  crowd,  was  sufficient  to  tell  Linden  and  his 
devoted  band  that  the  morrow  boded  no  good  for  them. 
Still  they  stood  manfully  at  their  posts,  guarding  every  point 
and  keeping  off  the  approach  of  and  attacks  from  all  strag- 
glers. Capt.  Heisler,  with  more  men,  came  to  the  rescue, 
and  the  Militia  were  expected  by  every  train.  Telegraphic 
messages  kept  the  wires  busy  and  messengers  hurriedly  going 
and  coming. 

Among  the  miners,  the  Welsh,  English,  German,  and  Poles 
mingled,  and  heartily  joined  hands  with  the  Irish.  For  once 
feuds  were  forgotten,  and  nationalities  all  made  common 
cause.  The  destruction  of  the  collieries,  or  entire  submis- 
sion to  the  behests  of  those  on  the  strike,  had  been  decided 
upon. 

While  the  music  sounded,  and  dancing  was  going  on  at 
Number  Three,  McKenna  held  a secret  conference  with 
Linden.  He  gave  him  all  the  information  regarding  the  pro- 
posed action  for  the  morrow  that  he  had  been  able  to  gather, 
and  assured  his  friend  he  would  have  fierce  work  to  do  if  he 
did  not  abandon  the  breaker. 

“We  can  die  there,  then  ! ” said  Linden.  “ I will  never 
give  it  up  ! Rather  than  that,  may  every  man  in  my  com- 
mand— officers  and  all — be  murdered  ! Let  the  strikers 
come  ! Some  of  them  will  bite  the  dust ! I can  tell  them, 
we  will  be  found  well  prepared  !” 

“ I’ll  do  everything  in  my  power,  at  all  events,”  responded 


330 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


McKeiina,  “ to  discourage  violence ! Did  any  of  the 
Chicago  men  recognize  me,  to-day  ? ” 

“ I think  not  ! If  they  did,  they  had  sense  enough  not  to 
speak  of  it ! ” 

“ I trust  they  may  do  the  same  thing  to-morrow  ! If  they 
come  to  shooting,  I’m  sure  I’ll  get  out  of  the  range  of  those 
Winchesters  on  the  double  quick  ! ” 

Linden  advised  him  to  remember  to  do  so,  as  he  could 
not  tell  what  might  occur. 

They — the  police — look  upon  you  as  the  worst  and 
most  desperate  character  in  the  Mollie  crowd  ! ” 

“I  know  it !”  said  McKenna,  “but  they’ll  learn  their 
mistake  one  of  these  days  ! ” 

It  was  noticeable  that,  when  communicating  with  Linden, 
the  detective  dropped  his  well-worn  brogue,  and  conversed 
in  his  ordinary  tone,  using  few  Celtic  terms. 

The  conference  was  brief,  and  with  a “good  night”  the 
detectives  separated,  McKenna  returning  to  the  camp-fires, 
and  Linden  seeking  sleep  upon  his  bed  of  hay. 

When  he  reached  Number  Three,  McKenna  learned  that 
a portion  of  his  brother  Mollies,  fearing  to  face  the  conse- 
quences of  the  parade — as  it  was  called — but,  as  it  really 
was,  a mob,  comprising  all  the  elements  of  a commune  and 
a riot — had  fled  to  Ringtown  Mountain  and  there  organized 
a local  guard,  or  reserve  force.  Among  these  stay-at-home 
heroes — who  received  loud  shouts,  hisses  of  derision,  and  the 
appellation  of  “ craven-hearted  cowards” — was  Mike,  alias 
Muff  Lawler.  He  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  celebra- 
tion, sneaked  away  and  hid  himself  at  Ringtown.  The  oper- 
ative, having  in  mind  the  pusillanimous  manner  in  which  the 
same  man  had  retreated  from  Dick  Flynn,  at  Colorado  Col- 
liery, months  before,  leaving  him  to  face  the  infuriated  fellow 
alone,  was  not  much  surprised  that  Lawler  had  no  appetite 
for  the  next  day’s  work,  but  said  nothing.  In  fact,  if  the 
truth  were  told,  the  detective  did  not  really  blame  Mike  for 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


331 


his  later  action,  and,  had  not  duty  called  him  to  take  part 
in  the  proceedings,  would  have  adopted  a similar  course. 
But  he  must  stay  and  see  the  affair  through.  It  was  not  his 
time  to  run  away. 

The  night  passed  without  the  occurrence  of  any  overt  act. 
The  morning  of  the  third  had  but  fairly  opened  when  new 
delegations  commenced  coming  in,  and  Marshals  Walker 
and  Johnson  begun  the  work  of  forming  the  line.  Impromptu 
flags  were  prepared,  the  drums  beat,  and  the  uncouth  assem- 
blage was  soon  ready  to  march. 

Fenton  Cooney  was  deputed  to  take  charge  of  the  rear  and 
form  the  stragglers.  One  Fitzpatrick,  a boss  at  Heckler’s, 
assisted. 

Nine  o’clock  came,  and  as  the  crowd  was  about  to  move 
the  Sheriff  of  Schuylkill  County  rode  up,  accompanied  by  a 
Superintendent  of  the  Coal  and  Iron  Company.  The  for- 
; mer  inquired  as  to  the  cause  of  the  assemblage. 

“ Only  a bit  of  a parade,”  was  the  plausible  response,  and 
1 the  two  men,  apparently  satisfied,  rode  away. 

The  intention  of  the  men  was  to  have  an  imposing  pro- 
cession, ending  at  Mahanoy  City,  and,  meantime,  to  force 
the  miners,  at  every  colliery  in  their  way,  to  quit  work 
and  join,  or  go  to  their  homes.  They  were  determined 
to  stop  operations,  if  they  had  to  kill  the  workmen.  But 
the  Sheriff  was  not  informed  of  this  portion  of  the  pro- 
gramme. 

When  the  mob  reached  West  Shenandoah  Colliery  it  mus- 
tered, despite  the  disaffection  of  a few,  some  seven  hundred 
strong,  all  firmly  resolved  that  mining  should  not  proceed  in 
the  Mahanoy  valley.  They  marched  away  at  a brisk  pace, 
and  thought  themselves  invincible.  But  at  the  road  skirting 
the  works  mentioned  was  revealed  a sight  for  which  they 
were  all  unprepared.  The  blackened  walls  of  the  breaker 
stood  out  boldly  in  relief  against  the  blue  sky  \ the  sun  shone 
upon  twenty  armed  men,  ranged  in  a compact  line,  surround- 


332 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


ing  and  cutting  off  approach  to  the  mouth  of  the  slope  and 
the  engine-house,  with  arms,  bright  and  gleaming,  forming  an 
inclosure  of  human  bodies.  Their  repeating  rifles  were 
threatening.  That  obstacle  did  not  seem  so  easy  to  surmount, 
and  the  mob  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  wavered,  and 
presently  the  Grand  Marshal  ordered  a pause.  Part  of  his 
force  had  crossed  the  Reading  Railway  track,  just  before  it 
passes  under  the  Lehigh  bridge,  and  there  they  waited,  un- 
decided what  course  to  pursue. 

It  was  a trying  moment  for  the  police,  under  Linden. 
Heisler  being  unavoidably  absent  in  the  city. 

“ Are  you  going  to  send  the  men  from  the  slope,  and  stop 
the  works  ?”  asked  Walker,  in  a loud  voice. 

“ Go  on  about  your  business  ! ” answered  Linden,  resting 
one  hand  on  his  piece.  “ The  men  in  the  mine  are  under 
the  protection  of  the  law  ! They  will  stay  where  they  are, 
and  you  must  not  molest  them  ! ” 

“Forward!”  commanded  Walker.  But  his  tone  lacked 
confidence. 

“ Halt  1 ” shouted  Linden. 

But  few  obeyed  Walker’s  call — and  they  stepped  back 
hastily,  as  though  they  had  blundered,  when,  at  a signal  from 
Linden,  a score  of  Winchester  rifles  promptly  came  to  the 
shoulders  of  as  many  hardy  and  resolute  men,  ready  for  the 
expected  order  to  “ fire.” 

McKenna  was  the  most  eccentric  and  savage  appearing 
Mollie  Maguire  in  the  whole  seven  hundred.  His  old,  soft 
hat,  knocked  in  at  the  sides,  yellow  hair  flying  wildly  in  the 
breeze,  a long,  patched,  gray  coat,  with  two  revolvers  in  his 
belt,  beside  a big  hickory  club  which  he  carried  in  his  hand ; 
even  the  men  from  Chicago  looked  upon  him  as  a prominent 
target  to  receive  the  contents  of  their  already  directed 
weapons.  By  the  side  of  the  detective  was  a sleek  bull-ter- 
rier, which  he  had  carefully  raised  and  just  brought  out, 
trained  ready  for  the  pit,  its  tongue  protruding,  and  showing 


Halt!'  Shouted  Linde)i. 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER,  333 

the  white  teeth,  appearing  fully  as  murderous  and  ugly  as 
his  master. 

The  Mollies  knew — if  the  rest  did  not — that  each  one  of 
those  bright  gun-barrels  could  send  sixteen  deadly  messen- 
gers into  their  ranks  without  reloading.  They  also  knew 
that  Linden — “ Captain  Jack,”  as  he  there  received  christen- 
ing— was  at  the  head  of  the  force  and  would  fight  to  the  last 
drop  of  blood  in  his  body.  His  rifle  would  be  aimed  with 
those  of  his  followers. 

Walker  realized  the  gravity  of  the  situation  in  a moment, 
and  did  not  repeat  his  order.  Soon  there  was  a whisper  of 
consultation.  McKenna  suggested  that  “ twenty  times  six- 
teen wor  three  hundred  an’  twenty,  an’  that  was  the  number 
that  must  fall  before  them  Winchesters  were  exhausted  ! 
• An’  wur  it  all  worth  even  fifty  lives  ? ” 

The  Marshal  and  other  leading  men  thought  not,  and, 

I scowling  fiercely  back  at  Linden  and  his  Spartan  band,  they 
quietly  moved  on,  in  the  direction  of  the  bridge,  leaving  the 
, breaker  undisturbed.  The  muzzles  of  the  Winchesters  and 
the  faces  of  the  men  behind  them  showed  that  the  police 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with. 

' The  mob  had  decided — and  wisely  too — it  was  not  a propi- 
tious moment  to  compel  Linden  and  his  men  to  retire — that 
1 another  time  might  as  well  be  selected  for  seizing  the  colliery 
and  forcing  a suspension  of  work.  Jack  Delaney,  Peirce 
Walker,  Ben  Johnson,  Fitzpatrick,  and  John  Gibbons,  who 
had  all  been  industrious  in  raising  and  organizing  the  rabble, 
it  was  noticed,  found  themselves  among  the  foremost  to 
recognize  the  force  there  was  in  Linden’s  metallic  argument. 

The  awkward  squad  surged  along  toward  Mahan oy  City, 
forcing  those  it  encountered  to  join  the  ranks. 

At  Hazleton  a prisoner  was  rescued,  and  the  law  defied. 

Fox’s  Colliery,  which  had  begun  to  work,  was  stopped 
by  force,  and  the  men  driven  home. 

The  owners  of  Bowman’s  Colliery,  hearing  that  the  crowd 


334 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


was  coming,  sent  off  their  miners  and  discontinued  opera- 
tions before  the  advance  guard  hove  in  sight. 

The  Sheriff  made  a stand,  with  a few  men,  at  Jackson’s 
Hill,  but  he  was  derided,  loudly  cursed  ; and  the  commu- 
nists marched  onward  in  spite  of  the  law  and  its  minions. 

The  Foundry  Colliery  was  stopped,  and  its  men  ran  away 
in  a fright. 

Soon  word  was  brought  that  three  hundred  men,  from  the 
vicinity  of  Hazleton,  had  already  entered  Mahanoy  City, 
caused  a disturbance,  and  some  of  their  number  been  ar- 
rested by  the  police  and  placed  in  the  lock  up. 

At  last  Mahanoy  City  was  gained,  and  its  streets  found 
swarming  with  demoralized  citizens.  The  mob  had  accumu- 
lated strength  until  it  numbered  over  two  thousand  men,  and 
everything  was  swept,  like  chaff  in  a west  wind,  before  it. 
All  business  was  suspended. 

The  first  cry  of  the  communists  was,  “ To  the  rescue  of  the 
Hazleton  boys  ! ” and  the  Chief  Burgess,  Eckman  by  name, 
was  hunted  up  and  politely  invited  to  release  the  men  he  had 
in  custody.  He  carefully  examined  the  faces  of  the  persons 
surrounding  him  and  consented.  The  prisoners  soon  formed 
part  of  the  line  of  the  parade.  The  principal  streets  were 
marched  through.  Disorder  and  lawlessness  prevailed,  but, 
as  there  was  no  one  to  oppose  the  rioters,  little,  if  any,  per- 
sonal violence  ensued.  The  striking  miners  had  everything 
their  own  way.  The  collieries  were  all  blocked,  and  the  men 
sent  home  unharmed. 

One  colliery  sounded  its  shrill  whistle,  adding  to  the  pre- 
vailing confusion  and  alarm,  the  engineer  having  deserted 
the  works,  carrying  the  cord  attached  to  the  mechanism  with 
him.  A crowd  rushed  to  the  spot.  Gibbons  climbed  upon 
the  boiler,  which  it  was  feared  might  explode,  opened  the 
valve,  the  steam  escaped,  and  the  danger  was  over. 

McKenna,  the  drum  corps,  and  those  who  could  pay, 
had  dinner  at  Clark’s  Emerald  House.  Those  who  had  no 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER. 


335 


money  procured  food,  wherever  possible,  from  the  citizens. 
While  he  was  eating,  the  detective  heard  firing  on  the  street. 
Followed  close  by  Doyle,  Thompson,  and  McCormick,  he 
rushed  out  to  see  what  was  the  trouble.  It  seems  that  the 
' mob,  when  about  to  attack  Idttle  Drift  Colliery,  had  been 
; met  by  a deputy  sheriff,  backed  by  a few  city  policemen. 

I'he  officer  had  read  the  riot  act  and  ordered  the  disturbers 
i of  the  public  peace  to  disperse,  but  without  other  effect  than 
I to  cause  them  to  go  on  faster  toward  the  colliery.  One, 
Tim  Jolley,  being  excited,  fired  a shot  into  the  mob,  hitting 
nobody.  Then  a rush  was  made  on  the  Sheriff,  and  shooting 
became  general  from  and  in  all  directions.  Jolley  was 
quickly  knocked  down,  and  his  pockets  searched.  Some 
I one  carried  off  his  watch  and  chain,  another  his  money,  and 
yet  others  secured  his  hat  and  outer  clothing.  Friday 
O’Donnell,  according  to  his  own  story,  did  some  rapid  shoot- 
ing at  about  that  time,  but  was  not  aware  whether  he  hit  any 
! ore.  Jim  McAllister  received  a cut  in  the  head;  while  en- 
gaged in  throwing  rocks  at  the  officers.  He  had  no  weapon. 

[ McGinnis  had  a pistol  wound  in  the  head,  but  it  was  not  a 
; fatal  one. 

Finally,  the  officers  having  retreated  without  severe  injury, 
the  disorderly  procession  moved  for  the  return  march  to 
Shenandoah,  and  the  parade  and  the  riot  ended  at  the  same 
, time.  Strange  to  say,  not  a person  was  killed  in  the  entire 
i day’s  transactions. 

' The  Militia  arrived  that  night,  and  thenceforward  there 
were  to  be  no  more  serious  riots  in  the  county — at  least  not 
I as  long  as  the  soldiers  remained.  But  violence  and  assassina- 
tion did  not  cease.  On  the  contrary,  bad  blood  had  been 
stirred.  It  would  not  settle  until  innocent  men  were  mur- 
dered. A few  arrests  were  made  of  the  leading  rioters,  but 
no  particular  punishment  was  ever  meted  out  to  them.  The 
Mollies  swore  alibis^  without  regard  to  truth  or  conscience. 

About  the  sixth  of  June  Tom  Hurley,  who  had  a brother. 


336 


HOLDING  THE  BREAKER, 


a member  of  the  Girardville  company  of  Militia,  tried  to 
accomplish,  all  by  himself,  the  butchery  of  Capt  Heisler. 
James  Hurley  was  on  duty  with  Heisler  at  West  Shenan- 
doah Colliery,  and,  late  at  night,  Tom  Hurley  came  up  and 
spoke  to  them.  In  Heisler’s  temporary  absence  the  brothers 
arranged  that  James  should  contrive  to  leave  Heisler  alone 
a few  moments,  when  Tom  could  easily  pick  him  off  from 
an  ambush.  Heisler  returned  to  his  post  and  Tom  bid  the 
two  “good  night,”  saying  he  must  go  home.  Walking  but  a 
short  distance,  however,  he  plunged  into  the  underbrush, 
took  a detour,  and  crawled  stealthily  up  again  within  pistol 
range  of  Heisler  and  James  Hurley.  Finally  he  heard  the 
latter  say  ; 

“ Captain,  it’s  coming  chilly  ! I’ll  just  go  to  the  office  and 
get  my  overcoat  ! ” 

“No!”  answered  the  Captain.  “That  will  never  do  I 
We  are  put  here  on  guard,  and  here  must  stay ! ” 

Heisler  acted  as  if  he  suspected  Tom,  at  least  Jim  had  to 
remain  where  he  was.  Heisler’s  life,  for  a time,  was  safe. 

In  about  half  an  hour,  during  which  Tom  Hurley,  with 
pistol  leveled  full  upon  the  Captain,  remained  watching  in 
his  place  of  concealment,  Jim  Hurley  exclaimed  : 

“ Faith,  I’ve  come  out  here  with  no  arms  on  me  at  all  1 
I’ve  left  me  revolver  ! I’ll  go  and  get  it  I ” 

“ No  1 ” again  answered  Heisler.  “ You  can  take  the 
rifle  I The  navy  six  is  enough  for  me  ! ” 

Cursing  the  stupidity  of  the  man  who  refused  to  be  left 
alone,  so  that  he  might  kill  him,  Tom  Hurley,  after  stopping 
where  he  was  until  nearly  overcome  by  sleep,  cautiously 
arose  from  the  ground,  and,  without  making  a sound  to 
indicate  his  presence,  stooped  low  and  moved  skulkingly 
away.  He  told  McKenna  of  his  adventure,  the  next  day, 
and  Linden  was  soon  in  possession  of  the  fact.  When  sub- 
sequently consulted  about  his  conduct  on  the  occasion 
Capt.  Heisler  said  he  had  heard  considerable  about  Tom 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQUAINTANCE. 


337 


Hurley,  and  believed  that  the  brothers  might  attempt  some 
trap  upon  him.  Still,  when  he  refused  to  be  left  alone,  he 
had  not  the  least  suspicion  that  in  so  doing  he  twice 
thwarted  the  would-be  assassins. 

Jim  Hurley  was  no  more  placed  on  guard  at  Shenandoah 
Colliery. 

The  resumption  w.as  not  again  interfered  with,  and  by  the 
sixteenth  of  June  became  quite  general  in  the  coal  regions. 
Even  the  Mollies  went  to  work,  having  stood  out  as  long  as 
they  deemed  it  possible,  and  finding  that,  without  their  aid, 
the  company  were  able  to  continue  their  mining  operations. 

Mr.  Linden,  at  about  this  time,  met  some  adventures, 
which  must  be  described. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQUAINTANCE. 

Captain  Linden  made  a flying  visit  to  Shoemaker’s  Patch, 
when  once  informed  of  the  attempt  upon  the  life  of  Wm.' 
M.  Thomas,  where  he  met  the  injured  man,  frescoed  and  or- 
namented with  plentiful  patches  and  plasters,  and  bolstered 
up  in  bed,  loudly  proclaiming  he  was  quite  well  enough  to 
resume  his  daily  work,  and  that  he  should  do  so  on  the  mor- 
row, despite  the  advice  of  an  army  of  surgeons  and  nurses. 
Considering  that  he  had  received  four  serious  gunshot 
wounds,  one  disabling  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  two  in 
the  neck,  and  one  penetrating  the  chest,  this  might  be 
thought  rather  rash  talk  and  conduct.  Linden  so  believed, 
and  endeavored  to  soothe  and  curb  him.  It  was  of  no  use. 
The  madcap  bruiser  said  he  would  kill  anybody  who  tried  to 
IS 


338  LINDEN  FORMS  AN  AC Q UAINTANCE. 


prevent  his  going  out  the  next  day.  And,  in  defiance  of  all 
the  laws  of  ])hysic,  pharmacy,  surgery,  and  precedent,  he  did 
walk  to  the  stables  the  second  morning  subsequent  to  the 
shooting.  One  of  the  bullets,  hitting  him  in  the  neck,  had 
plowed  a passage,  through  muscular  fibre  and  cuticle,  miss- 
ing by  only  half  an  inch  the  inner  jugular  vein  and  adjacent 
carotid  artery,  and,  should  the  coats  of  any  of  these  large 
blood-courses  slough  away,  his  death  would  be  certain  and 
speedy.  Without  awaiting  this  crisis,  and  with  the  first 
plasters  still  on  the  hurts,  the  careless  and  reckless  man  re- 
sumed his  job  in  the  stables.  Fortunately  the  injuries  con- 
tinued healthy,  rapidly  healed,  and  in  a few  weeks  Thomas 
was  just  as  strong  as  ever,  and  as  anxious  to  kill  a Mollie 
Maguire  as  before  receiving  the  shots  of  his  assailants. 

Linden  sought  to  learn  all  the  particulars  of  the  assault, 
concealing  the  knowledge  he  had  already  received,  and 
therefore  interrogated  Thomas  closely,  generally  securing 
prompt  responses  to  his  queries.  In  answer  to  the  question  : 
“ Do  you  know  any  of  your  assailants  ” 

Thomas  answered  : 

“ No  ! But  shall  know  some  of  them  if  ever  I see  them 
again ! A feller  generally  recollects  the  faces  of  them  what 
pulls  a pistol  and  shoves  it  inter  his  face  ! Leastways  I do  ! ” 
That’s  true  ! ” assented  Linden. 

“ There  was  but  four  of  ’em!  I’m  sure  of  that!  I saw 
’em  before  they  got  nigh  the  stable,  as  they  were  sitting  near 
the  drift-mouth,  but  thought  nothing  of  it.  It  was  no  new 
thing  to  find  men  there,  and  even  strangers.  I had  been 
talkin’  a bit  with  the  stable  boss,  when  I again  saw  the 
fellows,  this  time  coming  toward  the  stable.  Still,  I had  no 
suspicion  of  their  purpose.  The  next  thing  I recollect  was 
a youngster,  sticking  a bright  seven-shooter  in  my  face  ! I 
went  fur  him,  and  seized  the  pistol  with  my  hand.  It  was 
discharged  as  I caught  it.  I let  go,  and  shied  my  hat  in  his 
face,  and  just  afterward  another  of  the  party  came  up  and  fired 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQUAINTANCE. 


339 


at  me  ! After  that,  two  more  came  and  followed  suit,  when 
I thought  it  time  to  get  shelter,  so  I went  behind  a horse,  and 
they  hied  and  hit  the  horse,  and  he  fell,  and  I went  down 
with  one  leg  sorter  under  him,  an’  they  looked  in,  saw  me, 
as  they  thought,  dying — but  I’ll  let  them  know  I’m  good  for 
the  lives  of  some  of  them  bucks  yet ! — an’  left  the  })lace. 

It  was  about  half-past  six  in  the  morning — just  nigh  sun-up, 
an’  I could  see  them  as  plain  as  I can  see  you  ! Of  course 
I’d  know  the  hrst  one  that  shot,  and  I believe  I’d  recognize 
the  rest  if  brought  before  them.  1 mean  to  live  to  see  the 
scoundrels  punished  ! If  the  law  will  not  do  it.  Bill  Thomas 
will  ! The  sneaking,  cowardly  curs  went  up  the  hill  like  a 
shot,  and  were  out  of  sight  in  two  minutes,  before  anybody 
could  catch  them  ! One  walked  a little  lame.  I recollect 
that,  for  I stood  up  as  soon  as  I could  and  looked  after  them. 
Dr.  Bissell,  of  Mahanoy  City,  got  here  soon  afterward  and 
dressed  my  hurts.  He  had  the  impudence  tell  me  I must  • 
keep  my  bed  for  the  next  ten  days  at  least ! I’ll  see 
him  and  all  his  plasters,  pots,  and  vials  in  h — 1 before  I’ll  do 
that ! ” 

Linden  tried  hard  to  convince  the  wounded  man  that  it 
was  as  much  as  his  life  was  worth  to  venture  out  until  the 
result  of  his  hurts  could  be  definitely  ascertained,  but  made 
no  impression  upon  the  stubborn  fellow.  Seeing  that  this 
would  not  succeed,  the  officer  tried  another  tack,  and  found 
Bill  ready  and  willing  to  second  his  efforts  in  hunting  up 
and  arresting  the  would  be  assassins.  Said  the  operative  : 

“ Now,  Thomas,  if  you  will  not  obey  me,  or  your  friends 
and  physician,  I do  hope  you  will  bear  in  mind  what  I say 
in  another  direction  ! ” 

“ What  is  it  ? ” asked  the  frescoed  man,  sullenly. 

“ I want  a promise  that,  if  any  one  asks  who  shot  you,  the 
answer  shall  be,  ‘ I don’t  know  ! ’ ’•’ 

“ Neither  do  I—%o  that’ll  be  no  lie  ! ” 

“ Well,  if  people  inquire  what  the  four  men  were  like,  say, 


340 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQUAINTANCE. 


4 


for  the  present,  that  tliere  was  so  much  smoke  you  could  not 
distinguish  their  faces  or  figures  ! ” 

“ ril  do  it,  Captain”  responded  Bill,  with  an  oath  and  a 
groan.  “I’ll  do  it!  But  what  is  it  for?  That’s  what  I 
want  to  know  ! ” 

“ I’ll  tell  you  ! If  these  Mollies  hear  that  you,  their 
intended  victim,  cannot  recall  their  appearance — in  fact, 
would  not  know  them  if  they  were  to  come  again  before  you 
— they  will  be  emboldened  to  remain  in  the  neighborhood. 
In  the  meantime,  I can  be  on  the  lookout,  and  you  may 
rest  assured,  if  I once  get  my  hands  on  them,  they’ll  be  put 
in  a safe  place,  where  you  can  come  and  identify  them  ! I 
have  your  description  of  the  parties,  and  do  not  think  I 
will*  be  long  in  running  them  down  1 Do  I have  your 
word  ? ” 

“Yes,  Captain!  I’ll  promise  to  be  straight  out  in  the 
business,  if  you  think  it’ll  help  in  bringing  the  crowd  to  jail  ! 
I do  hope  to  see  the  day  when  the  scoundrels  will  suffer  for 
the  deed  ! ” 

“ They  will  be  arrested,  you  may  be  sure,  when  found  ! ” 

Once  more  impressing  upon  Thomas’  mind  the  necessity 
for  silence  and  caution,  Ifinden  left  the  house,  and,  the  same 
day,  returned  to  Shenandoah.  While  Thomas  was  a des- 
perado, had  the  reputation  of  an  amateur^  pugilist  and  a 
rough  customer,  all  this  did  not  palliate  the  crime  of  his 
enemies.  I was  very  anxious  to  have  them  captured,  and 
work  was  at  once  commenced  upon  that  portion  of  the 
business. 

Will.  M.  Thomas  was  of  Welsh  descent,  and  his  real  name 
was  Willmad  Frank,  but  he  was  generally  known  as  Win.  M. 
Thomas — or  “ Bully  Bill.”  Why  people  persisted  in  calling 
him  by  the  latter  coarse  title,  he  told  Linden,  he  had  no 
knowledge.  He  did  not  particularly  delight  in  the  alias^  yet 
it  was  quite  appropriate,  in  slang  parlance,  being  founded 
upon  his  daring  and  reckless  personal  character.  His  father’s 


> 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  A CQ  UAINTANCE.  34 1 

name  was  Frank.  That  should  have  been  his  own.  but  he 
was  everywhere  denominated  Thomas. 

When  the  Mollies  heard  that  Bill  was  not  dead,  after  all 
the  ])owder  and  ball  that  had  been  wasted  upon  him,  they 
were  enraged.  It  was’  not  policy  for  them  to  emit  their 
wrathful  feelings  on  the  public  streets  and  in  the  presence 
of  strangers,  but  in  their  own  secret  circle  they  were  loud  in 
denunciations  of  Hurley,  Gibbons,  Doyle,  and  Morris,  as 
foolish  bunglers,  who  did  not  have  the  nerve  to  face  “Bully 
Bill  ! ” The  four  worthies  received  little’  sympathy  from 
those  who  knew  their  part  in  the  tragedy,  and  those  who  did 
not  were  as  likely  to  speak  their  feelings  to  their  very  faces 
as  in  the  presence  of  others.  Gibbons  had  gone.  Morris, 
Doyle,  and  Hurley  were  at  work.  The  general  public  merely 
read  the  published  accounts  of  the  attempted  murder  in  the 
newspapers,  and  gave  little  thought  to  solving  the  riddle 
as  to  who  had  wrought  the  deed,  or  wherefore  it  had 
been  done.  It  was  charged  upon  the  Mollie  Maguires, 
however,  as  it  was  known  that  Thomas  had  made  himself 
peculiarly  obnoxious  to  that  class,  and  it  was  supposed 
his  end  would  one  day  come  through  use  of  their  pistols. 
At  present  Wm.  M.  Thomas  survived  and  swore  eternal 
vengeance. 

• It  was  not  difficult  for  McKenna  and  Linden  to  form  a 
plan  by  which'the  latter  should  become  acquainted  with  the 
‘prominent  Mollies  in  and  about  Shenandoah.  A time  was 
appointed  when  Linden  should  encounter  his  brother  detec- 
tive at  Cleary’s  saloon,  where  the  clan  mostly  congregated, 
after  the  departure  of  McHugh,  and  after  the  little  misunder- 
standing McKenna  and  his  companions  had  had  with  Micky 
Cuff  about  his  teeth.  They  entered  the  place  separately, 
one  day,  finding  themselves  in  the  presence  of  Muff  Lawler, 
John  Delaney,  of  Number  Three,  and  some  others,  when  ‘ 
Linden  pretended  to  recognize  McKenna  as  an  old  acquaint- 
ance, from  Buffalo,  whose  face  he  had  not  seen  for  several 


342 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQ  UAINTANCE. 


years.  They  shook  hands  heartily  and  were  greatly  rejoiced 
at  the  seemingly  accidental  encounter, 

“ Glad  to  see  you  again  ! ” said  Linden. 

‘‘It  plazes  me,  too,  tho’  I can’t  say  much  for  the  sarvice 
ye  are  in,”  answered  the  detective,  scowling  upon  Linden 
rather  ferociously. 

“ Oh,  that  need  not  part  old  friends  ! ” responded  Idnden. 
“ You  know  I always  perform  my  duty,  and  as  long  as  I say 
nothing  about  your  Buffalo  matter,  and  do  not  go  out  of  my 
way  to  harm  yoii  or  your  friends,  1 don’t  see  the  need  for 
quarreling  ! Come,  let’s  have  something  in  remembrance 
of  old  times  ! ” 

“ I’m  agreed  ! ” responded  McKenna,  and  he  was  prompt 
in  walking  up  to  the  bar,  followed  by  the  assembled  Mollies, 
all  of  whom  drank  at  the  Captain’s  expense.  Had  he  not 
shown  himself  an  old  friend  of  McKenna,  there  were  few  of 
the  Mollies  who  would  have  cared  to  take  a glass  in  his 
company.  They  soon  found  him  a gentleman  of  his  word, 
and  as  he  had  promised  not  to  hurt  McKenna,  they  felt  he 
would  be  .equally  lenient  to  that  person’s  comrades.  Lawler 
was  particularly  struck  with  the  frank  and  manly  manner  of 
Linden,  and  said  he  was  “ proud  to  form  his  acquaintance  ! ” 

Before  Linden  left  the  crowd  it  increased  considerably  in 
numbers  and  its  members  were  greatly  under  the  influence 
of  the  liquor  they  had  consumed. 

The  ice  once  broken,  the  Mollies  did  not  wonder,  or  in- 
dulge suspicion,  when  they  saw  Linden  and  McKenna  occa- 
sionally in  company.  It  was  not  often  they  were  found  to- 
gether, and  then  there  were  always  others  present,  to  pre- 
vent any  private  talk  ; but  it  was  easy  enough,  when  he 
wanted  to  meet  the  officer  alone,  for  McKenna  to  write  it — 
as  well  as  the  time  and  place  of  conference — on  a bit  of 
• paper,  in  his  room,  in  cipher,  and,  when  occasion  gave 
opportunity,  quietly  place  the  communication  in  Linden’s 
hand,  or  in  a side  pocket  of  his  coat. 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  A CQ  UAINTANCE.  343 


On  one  occasion,  the  detective,  having  something  particu- 
lar to  transmit,  made  the  open  boast  in  Cleary’s  that,  his  re- 
volver being  empty,  he  would  “do”  Linden  out  of  a fresh 
charge.  Slipping  out  of  the  room,  a few  minutes  later,  he 
walked  to  the  previously-appointed  rendezvous,  at  the  old 
bridge,  by  the  side  of  West  Shenandoah  Colliery,  held  the 
necessary  business  talk,  secured  some  cartridges,  and,  in 
half  an  hour,  was  back  at  the  saloon,  exhibiting  his  loaded 
pistol,  and  chuckling  over  the  sly  manner  in  which  ammuni- 
tion had  been  obtained  from  the  enemy. 

As  a natural  consequence  of  his  defense  of  the  Colliery, 
and  similar  employment  in  other  sections  of  the  country. 
Linden  was  soon  well  known  as  a policeman  who  had  been 
placed  at  the  head  of  a special  force  ; but  his  connection 
with  my  Agency  was  carefully  guarded  until  such  time  as  it 
might  be  necessarily  or  unavoidably  revealed. 

I At  another  time.  Linden  saw  McKenna  in  Cleary’s  place, 
j and,  after  a drink,  in  the  course  of  conversation  asked  the 
Shenandoah  Secretary  if  he  had  any  objection  to  talk  over 
old  times,  and  if  he  should  speak  out  before  the  company — 
nearly  all  Mollie  Maguires. 

“ Av  coorse  you  can  ! ” said  McKenna  in  a loud  voice. 

“ We  are  all  friends  of  Jim  McKenna,”  remarked  Muff 
Lawler,  “ so  see  to  it  that  you  don’t  say  anything  amiss  of 
him  ! ” 

“ No  danger  of  that,”  responded  Linden.  “ He’s  too 
good  a chum  of  mine,  and  I have  known  him  too  long,  to  do 
or  say  anything  to  harm  him  ! ” 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  Linden  accidentally  let 
out  the  supposed  fact  that,  while  McKenna  was  the  best- 
hearted  man  alive,  and  the  truest  friend,  he  would  traffic  in 
counterfeit  money,  if  he  had  a chance,  and  when  beset,  was 
a very  devil  in  a scuffle,  as  one  fellow  in  Buffalo  had  found  - 
out  when  it  was  too  late.  McKenna  said  very  little,  and 
allowed  his  friend  to  freely  chaff  him  to  his  face,  simply  re- 


344 


LINDEN  FORMS  AN  ACQUAINTANCE. 


spending  that  he  knew  the  source  whence  the  stories  came, 
and  did  not  care  for  them. 

After  Linden  had  gone,  Muff  Lawler  took  McKenna  aside 
and  whispered  in  his  ear  : 

“ J don’t  believe,  Jim,  that  Linden  would  arrest  you  for 
any  crime  whatever  ! He  seems  a jolly  chap,  and  is  too 
generous  an’  true  to  take  in  an  old  companion  ! ” 

‘‘  He  is  mightily  changed,  if  he  is  not  all  ye  can  say  that’s 
good,”  responded  the  detective  ; but  let  us  be  wary,  even 
of  him  ! He’s  a sworn  peace  officer,  an’  I know  he’ll  do  his 
duty,  no  matther  who  sthandsin  the  way  ! It  is  myintiiition 
never  to  throw  myself  in  his  road,  if  I happen  to  be  wanted 
for  anything  in  particular  ! ” 

“Well,”  resumed  Muff,  “ye  may  be  all  correct,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  I could  depind  u}Don  him  and  never  be 
decaved  ! ” 

Idnden  had  thus  buih  the  foundation  for  what  was  fated  to 
be  a considerably  extended  and  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  Mollie  Maguires. 

The  shooting  of  Wm.  Thomas,  and  its  failure  in  a fatal  re- 
sult, caused  extra  exertions  to  be  put  forth  by  the  members 
of  the  Mollie  order,  in  different  localities,  to  make  trouble 
for  the  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  the  Superintendents  of 
which  were  determined  to  continue  work  in  their  own  way. 

Pat  Butler,  Bodymaster  at  Loss  Creek,  came  to  McKenna, 
a few  days  subsequent  to  the  incidents  just  detailed,  and 
said  his  men  were  anxious  to  put  an  end  to  shipping  of  coal 
over  the  Lehigh  Valley  Road,  and  wanted  his  assistance. 
The  operative  demurred,  said  McAndrew  had  returned,  was 
the  man  to  apply  to,  and  finally  refused  to  entertain  any 
such  proposition.  A little  later,  rails  were  torn  up  on  the 
road  mentioned,  and  trains  must  have  been  smashed  in 
pieces  and  people  killed  had  not  the  engineer,  who  was  on 
the  alert,  discovered  the  trouble  in  season.  Butler,  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  in  favor  of  the  Catawissa  bridge-burning, 


LINDEN  FOE  MS  AN  A CQ  UAINTANCE.  345 

heretofore  alluded  to,  and  which  had  been  given  up  when 
outeiders  became  interested.  He  was  still  solicitous  that  the 
job  should  be  done,  by  Mollies  alone,  but  McKenna  boldly 
0[)posed  the  work,  and  after  a while  forced  him  to  abandon 
the  ‘project. 

"Hie  next  plan  was  broached  by  Thompson,  of  Number 
Three,  who  sought  aid  in  throwing  the  passenger  train  off  the 
track  of  the  Shenandoah  Branch.  McKenna  caused  a de- 
lay, urging  want  of  men,  and  then  agreed,  but  finally  backed 
out,  saying  it  was  too  dangerous  to  human  life.  So  this  was 
effectually  stopped,  and  the  men  gathered  for  the  purpose  of 
its  execution  were  sent  home. 

Determined  to  do  something  devilish,  Thompson,  Doyle, 
Murphy,  and  John  Dean,  came  together  and  turned  loose  the 
brake  of  a horse  car,  loaded  with  iron,  let  it  fly  down,  over 
the  steep  grade  of  the  main  line  of  the  road,  when  they  knew 
the  passenger  train  was  coming  up  from  an  opposite  direc- 
tion. Had  not  the  flying  and  deadly  missile — for  it  sped 
over  the  track  like  an  arrow  from  a bow — been  observed  at 
Loss  Creek  Store,  and  a word  of  warning  telegraphed  the 
cars  to  get  on  the  side  track,  hundreds  of  lives  would  have 
been  wantonly  sacrificed. 

A little  later,  Tom  Hurle}'-  and  Jack  Hilbert  entered 
Penitentiary  Drift,  then  being  worked  by  a Mr.  Schwartz, 
took  away  all  the  tools,  powder,  and  harness,  and  the  property 
they  could  not  carry  destroyed  and  emptied  into  the  creek. 

Soon  after  these  things  occurred  the  detective  was  given 
fresh  cause  for  uneasiness,  in  the  expressed  determination  of 
Frank  McAndrew  to  once  more  leave  for  another  mininof 
locality  in  search  of  work.  Should  the  Bodymaster  carry 
out  his  threat  the  management  of  the  division  would  again 
be  left  to  McKenna,  a consummation  not  devoutly  to  be 
wished.  The  detective,  therefore,  endeavored  to  show  to 
the  perverse  McAndrew  that  the  work  already  begun  would 
soon  result  in  a general  resumption  of  mining  all  over  the 


346 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


Mahanoy  Valley,  in  spite  of  the  strikers,  when  work  would 
be  as  plentiful  there  as  anywhere.  All  he  had  to  do  was  to 
counsel  quiet,  do  his  best  to  )3ut  the  men  in  good  humor,  and 
he  would  not  be  forced  to  remove  from  Shenandoah. 

“ This  is  all  mighty  fine,”  answered  McAndrew.  “ Still, 
it’s  nothin’  but  talk,  an’,  be  gorra  ! it  taks  cash  to  buy  the 
childer  clothin’  fur  their  wearin’  and  bread  for  their  atin’  ! 
If  I don’t  get  somethin’  to  do  in  a week  or  two,  I tell  you, 
seriously,  that  Shenandoah  won’t  see  my  face  for  a long 
while  ! I’ll  turn  me  back  upon  it  wid  all  the  speed  imagina- 
ble ! ” 

Would  McAndrew  desert  the  place,  and  once  more  leave 
the  Secretary  in  the-  toils  ? McKenna  determined  that  he 
should  not  go,  if  he  could  find  anything  to  prevent.  But 
what  could  he  do  to  keep  him  at  home  ? 


CHAPTER  XXXIII.  } 

y 

( 

PRESIDENT  GOWEN  AND  THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 

The  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania,  listening  to  the  repeated 
demands  of  the  dissatisfied  and  the  call  of  the  Anti-Monop- 
oly Convention,  heretofore  alluded  to,  in  1875  appointed  a ‘j 
committee  to  investigate  the  affairs  of  the  Philadelphia  and  j 
Reading  Company.*  That  commission  convened  at  Atlan-  | 

tic  City,  New  Jersey,  the  29th  of  July,  in  the  same  year,  and  \ 

heard  such  testimony  as  the  complainants  could  bring  before  | 
it,  as  well  as  the  pleadings  of  the  able  attorneys  representing  | 

the  prosecutors  of  the  inquiry,  Mr.  Gowen,  the  President  ] 

of  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway  Company,  person-  i 

ally  appeared  before  the  committee  and  made  answer  to  the  j 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


347 


charges.  I have  deemed  it  necessary,  in  order  that  the 
careful  reader  may  fully  comprehend  this  entire  operation 
and  the  extent  to  which  it  reached,  to  give  a brief  abstract 
of  the  principal  points  in  Mr.  Govven’s  exhaustive,  compre- 
hensive, and  unanswerable  argument,  which  is  hereunto  ap- 
pended : 

After  furnishing  a condensed  history  of  the  Reading  Rail- 
road Company,  which  was  chartered  in  1833,  and  opened  to 
the  coal  regions  in  1842 — enlarging  gradually  from  a line  of 
fifty-eight  miles  of  single  track,  in  1835,  to  over  one  thousand 
miles,  in  1870 — 468  of  these  being  in  the  coal  fields  alone — 
Mr.  Gowen  alluded,  in  fitting  terms  to  the  various  trials  the 
Company  had  had  in  the  Legislature,  while  he  was  counsel, 
opposing  franchises  to  other  companies  securing  liberty  to 
mine  iron  and  coal.  He  succeeded,  at  one  time,  by  an 
amendment,  in  preventing  an  act,  in  favor  of  an  antagonistic 
coporation,  having  any  operation  in  Schuylkill  County. 
Then  .the  Company  bought  up  large  quantities  of  coal  land 
and  had  the  Franklin  Coal  Company  incorporated.  This 
was  followed  by  the  strike  of  1871,  after  which  the  Reading 
management  determined  to  enter  the  field  as  coal  and  iron 
miners  and  obtain  a grant  from  the  Legislature  for  the  forma- 
tion of  an  auxiliary  coal  and  iron  corporation.  This  gave 
rise  to  the  Laurel  Run  Improvement  Company.  They 
bought  one  hundred  thousand  acres  of  land,  and  it  was  con- 
veyed to  the  Company.  Forty  millions  of  dollars  were  thus 
expended. 

Mr.  Gowen  subsequently  traced,  in  brilliant  and  striking 
contrast,  the  respective  positions  of  New  York  and  Philadel- 
phia, showing  the  benefits  to  be  conferred  upon  Pennsylvania 
by  preventing  the  grasping  New  York  associations  from  ob- 
taining a monopoly  of  the  southern,  as  they  had  of  the 
northern  coal  fields. 

The  Reading  Company,  now  that  Mr.  Gowen’s  plans  have 
succeeded,  ships  from  the  city  of  Philadalphia,  alone,  two 


348 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


millions  five  hundred  thousand  tons  of  coal  a year,  in  vessels ; 
has  shipped  as  much  as  ninety  thousand  tons  a week,  and  the 
commerce  and  prosperity  of  the  port  of  Philadelphia,  as  a 
shi[)ping  point,  are  much  more  dependent  upon  the  industry 
which  it  brings  to  it  than  upon  all  others  put  together.  It 
can  now  say  to  the  manufacturer : “ Here  is  a Company 
that  owns  lines  of  railroad  in  the  heart  of  a rich  agricultural 
region,  where  labor  is  jilenty  and  always  will  be  abundant ; 
we  own  the  coal  mines,  and  you  x:an  come  here  to  locate 
your  works,  in  the  confidence  that  self-interest  alone,  and  the 
worship  of  the  almighty  dollar — generally  supposed  to  be 
implanted  in  the  breast  of  a corporation,  without  regard  to 
any  benevolent  or  philanthropic  ideas  in  the  minds  of  the 
gentlemen  connected  with  the  Company — will  induce  us  to 
let  you  have  this  fuel  at  less  than  you  can  buy  it  from  an 
individual.” 

After  giving  some  pertinent  figures  regarding  the  produc- 
tiveness of  the  coal  region — alluded  to  in  an  opening  chapter 
of  this  work — the  President  went  on  to  state  that,  at  the  end 
of  the  year,  while  the  Schuylkill  had  only  increased,  in  1870, 
to  four  millions  eight  hundred  and  fifty-one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fifty-five  tons,  or  twenty-nine  per  cent.,  in  the 
same  time  the  Wyoming  region  increased  from  twQ  millions 
nine  hundred  and  forty-one  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
seventeen  tons,  to  seven  millions  eight  hundred  and  .twenty- 
five  thousand  one  hundred  * and  twenty-eight -tons,  or  one 
hundred  and  sixty  per  cent.  Here  was  an  increase  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty-six  per  cent.,  against  twenty-nine,  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  Wyoming  region  was  controlled  by  large  cor- 
porations which  could  expend  money  in  developing  the  lands, 
and  who  were  not  liable  to  be  prostrated  by  a monetary  panic. 

In  the  four  years,  from  1870  to  1874,  tonnage  of  the 
Schuylkill  region  has  increased  thirty-three  and  twenty-three 
one-hundredths  per  cent.,  and  that  of  the  Wyoming  only 
eighteen  and  one  one-hundredth  per  cent. 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION, 


349 


The  peculiar  business  transactions  of  factors  in  Philadel- 
phia were  then  ably  discussed,  and  received  at  Mr.  Govven’s 
hands  the  exact  treatment  they  deserved,  when  he  turned 
his  attention  to  the  retail  dealers,  and  some  of  the  iniquities 
of  their  system,  after  which  he  examined,  seriatim^  the  four 
principal  charges  made  against  the  Company,  in  the  follow- 
ing order  : ist,  of  detention  of  cars;  2d,  of  short  weights; 
3d,  of  an  unfair  distribution  of  cars;  and  4th,  of  a combina- 
tion, or  conspiracy,  to  control  production,  which,  if  proven, 
renders  it  amenable  to  the  law,  and  which  shows  it  to  have 
been  guilty  of  an  abuse  of  its  corporate  franchises. 

As  to  detention  of  cars,  Mr.  Gowen  explained  the  cause 
to  be  unavoidable,  at  times,  but  said  the  Company  always 
i endeavored  to  deal  justly  by  its  patrons.  Detentions  were 
principally  from  accidents  to  trains  and  to  cars.  They 
employed  a Missing  Coal  Agent,  and  did  everything  in  their 
power  to  be  prompt. 

The  speaker  made  a complete  demurrer  to  the  charge  of 
short  weight,  and  fairly  turned  the  tables  upon  those  fighting 
>,  his  corporation,  exhibiting  the  result  of  a test  given  the 
h retail  dealers  in  Philadelphia,  greatly  to  the  discredit  of  the 
latter.  In  many  cases  these  very  honorable  retailers  sold 
from  thirteen  to  sixteen  and  eighteen  hundred  pounds  of 
. coal  for  a ton,  annually  realizing  a handsome  percentage 
, from  their  villainy. 

Unequal  distribution  of  cars  was  equally  well  refuted. 

; Then  the  opponents  of  the  company  said  : “ Philadelphia  is 
i not  the  place  to  make  the  investigation  in.  We  must 
‘beard  the  lion  in  his  den.’  We  must  go  right  up  to  Potts- 
1 ville.  The  newspapers  of  Philadelphia  are  worth  nothing. 
^ They  are  all  in  the  interest  of  the  Company,  and  as  for  Mr. 

[ Gowen,  he  will  not  venture  ten  miles  out  of  Philadelphia  ; 

if  he  does,  he  will  be  shot  by  the  miners.  We  will  take  the 
i committee  where  everybody  is  opposed  to  the  Company.” 
It  was  just  where  Mr.  Gowen  wanted  to'  go.  His  ad  versa- 


350 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


ries  had  two  weeks,  and  then  there  was  an  adjournment  of 
nearly  ten  days  more,  in  which  to  prepare  for  the  Pottsville 
campaign.  Mr.  Bronson  moved  his  headquarters  to  Potts- 
ville, and  examined  the  matter  carefully.  Mr.  Gowen  was 
present.  Threats  did  not  intimidate  him.  What  was  the 
result  ? The  allegations  were  abandoned.  Even  the  dis- 
charged employes  of  the  Reading  Company,  when  put  on 
the  witness’  stand,  said  nothing  to  reflect  upon  its  manage- 
ment. 

As  to  the  charge  of  unlawful  confederation,  the  speaker 
was  equally  felicitous.  The  object  in  entering  into  alliance 
with  the  New  York  Companies  was  simply  this — to  announce 
as  the  future  policy  of  the  Company  that  the  price  of  coal 
should  be  lowest  at  the  mines,  and  increase  with  every  mile 
of  distance  over  which  it  was  carried  ; that  it  should  be  just 
that  much  higher  in  the  city  of  New  York  than  it  was  in 
the  city  of  Philadelphia  as  was  due  to  the  increased  dis- 
tance of  the  former  from  the  region  where  the  coal  was  pro- 
duced. It  was  so  adjusted  that,  instead  of  coal  being  a 
dollar  a ton  cheaper  in  New  York,  the  difference  between 
the  price  of  coal  in  the  port  of  Philadelphia  and  in  the  city 
of  New  York  was  exactly  one  dollar  a ton  in  favor  of  Phila- 
delphia ; and  coal  in  Boston  was  exactly  so  much  higher 
than  coal  in  Philadelphia  as  was  due  to  the  cost  of  carrying 
it  from  Philadelphia  to  Boston — namely,  about  one  dollar 
and  sixty  cents  per  ton. 

After  speaking  of  the  loss  from  deterioration  of  coal,  by 
exposure  to  the  atmosphere,  the  risk  of  capital  invested,  and 
faulty  veins,  Mr.  Gowen  thus  alluded  to  troubles  in  the  coal 
region : “ It  will  not  do  to  say  that  these  troubles  result 
from  the  inadequacy  of  the  price  paid  for  labor,  because, 
without  exception,  the  rates  paid  are  the  highest  in  the  world. 
The  high  rates  have  had  the  effect  of  attracting  to  the  coal 
region  a surplus  of  labor,  more  than  siififlcient  to  do  the  work 
required ; and  it  is  the  effort  of  this  surplus  to  receive  an 


I 


[ 

I 

u 

! 

I 

( 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


351 


employment  which  it  cannot  really  get  that  has  led  to  all 
these  disturbances.”  He  would  not  be  understood  as  re- 
flecting in  any  manner  upon  the  laboring  class  of  the  com- 
munity. He  believed  ninety-five  out  of  every  one  hundred 
of  the  men  employed  about  the  mines  in  the  coal  region 
to  be  decent,  orderly,  law-abiding,  respectable  men  ; but 
there  is  among  them  a class  of  agitators — a few  men,  trained 
in  the  school  of  the  Manchester  cotton  spinner — brought 
here  for  the  purpose  of  creating  confusion  and  to  stir  up  dis- 
sension between  the  employer  and  the  employed.  Mr. 
Gowen  here  grew  earnestly  eloquent,  and  his  language  is 
quoted  in  full  : 

“ I yield  to  no  man  living  in  the  respect  and  admiration 
that  I pay  to  the  workingman.  Let  him  who  will  erect  an 
altar  to  the  genius  of  labor,  and,  abject  as  an  eastern  devo- 
tee, I worship  at  its  shrine, 

“ ‘ Gathering  from  the  pavement  crevice,  as  a floweret  from  the  soil, 
The  nobility  of  labor,  the  long  pedigree  of  toil.’ 

“ I ask  your  attention,  therefore,  for  a few  moments  to  my 
advocacy  of  the  rights  of  labor.  I stand  here  as  the  champion 
of  the  rights  of  labor — as  the  advocate  of  those  who  desire 
to  work  and  who  have  been  prevented  from  doing  so.  I 
stand  here  to  arraign  before  you  a class  of  two  or  three 
men  out  of  every  one  hundred,  who,  by  their  machinations 
and  by  their  agitation,  have  held  in  absolute  idleness  and  star- 
vation thousands  and  thousands  of  men  for  months.  Why, 
gentlemen,  look  at  what  we  have  undergone.  When  people 
object  to  a profit  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  cents  upon  the  ton 
of  coal,  I ask  them  to  look  at  what  those  who  mine  coal 
have  had  to  submit  to  during  the  last  six  months.  I have 
had  printed  for  your  use  a statement,  from  the  daily  reports 
coming  to  me  during  the  strike,  of  the  outrages  in  the  coal 
region.  Here  I want  to  correct  an  impression  that  goes  out 
to  the  public,  that  these  outrages  are  intended  to  injure  the 


352 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


property  of  the  employer.  They  are  not.  We  do  not 
believe  that  they  are.  They  are  perpetrated  for  no  other 
l)iirpose  than  to  intimidate  the  workingmen  themselves  and  to 
prevent  them  from  going  to  work.  I shall  not  read  the  list ; 
it  is  at  your  service  ; and  you  can  look  over  it  and  see  the 
position  we  have  occupied  for  months.  But  let  me  mention 
a few  of  the  glaring  instances  of  tyranny  and  oppression. 
At  a colliery,  called  the  Ben  Franklin  Colliery,  the  employes 
of  which  were  perfectly  satisfied  with  their  wages,  had  ac- 
cepted the  reduction  early  in  the  season,  and  were  working 
peacefully  and  contentedly,  the  torch  of  the  incendiary  was 
applied  to  the  breaker  at  night.  These  men,  having 
families  to  support,  working  there  contentedly  and  peacefully, 
were  driven  out  of  employment  by  a few  dangerous  men, 
simply  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  them  from  earning  their 
daily  bread.  I had  some  interest  in  the  subject  of  the  amount 
of  their  wages,  and  I asked  the  owner  of  the  colliery  what 
his  miners  were  actually  earning  at  the  time  when  they  were 
prevented  from 'working  by  the  burning  of  the  structure  in 
which  they  were  employed,  and  he  told  me  that  the  lowest 
miner  on  his  pay-list  earned  sixty  dollars  a month,  and  the 
highest  one  hundred  and  thirty  dollars  ; and  yet,  although 
these  men  were  peaceful,  law-abiding  men,  they  were  driven 
out  of  employment  by  an  incendiary  fire.  At  another  colliery, 
within  five  or  six  miles  of  this,  a band  of  twenty  or  thirty 
men,  in  the  evening — almost  in  broad  daylight — went  to  the 
breaker,  and  by  force  drove  the  men  away  and  burnt  the 
structure  down.  It  belonged  to  a poor  man.  It  was  a small 
operation.  The  savings  of  his  lifetime  were  probably  gone, 
and  his  own  employes,  who  had  nothing  against  him,  and 
who  were  perfectly  willing  to  work,  were  thrown  out  of  em- 
ployment, and  probably  remain  out  of  employment  to  this 
day.” 

All  schemes  for  causing  the  miner  to  provide  for  himself, 
when  sickness  and  trouble  came,  having  been  found  unavail- 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


353 


ing,  from  the  improvidence  of  the  men  themselves,  the 
Company  announced,  in  January,  1876,  a rule  that,  when- 
ever a man  was  killed  in  its  service,  a certain  sum  should  be 
paid  for  his  funeral  expenses  ; that  his  widow  should  receive 
a fixed  payment  each  week,  in  money,  for  a definite  period, 
or  so  long  as  she  remained  a widow,  and  that  every  minor 
child  of  the  deceased,  unable  to  work,  should  have  a des- 
I ignated  amount,  weekly,  all  of  which  was  to  be  paid  out  of 

' the  treasury  of  the  Company.  Even  this  charitable  and 

beneficent  plan  was  ridiculed  by  the  people  whose  business 
it  was  to  destroy  confidence  and  create  trouble  in  the  coal 
I region. 

' When  Mr.  Ggwen  concluded,  the  committee  made  its 
report,  showing  that  there  was  no  ground  of  action,  and 
that  was  the  last  heard  of  Legislative  intermeddling  with  the 
I Company. 

I The  reader  will  observe  that  Mr.  Gowen’s  address  appeals 
directly  to  the  workingman,  and  that  his  blows  are  mainly 
M showered  upon  the  Mollie  Maguires  and  their  evil  and 
; I violent  associates.  Wishing  to  show  the  good  the  miner  is 
' capable  of  doing,  he  speaks  plainly,  and  without  affecta- 
' tion,  so  that  the  illiterate  can  understand  as  clearly  as  the 
I ! learned.  He  also  desires  to  p,oint  out,  and  is  successful  in 
I depicting,  the  benefits  actually  accruing  to  Philadelphia  and 
the  State  of  Pennsylvania  through  action  of  the  two  great 
I companies  that  he  so  ably  represents. 

It  was  the  sixth  of  July  that  the  committee  was  in  Potts- 
j i ville,  where  they  supposed  Mr.  Gowen  would  not  dare  to 
M show  himself-;  but  in  this  the  gentlemen  prosecuting  the 
: case  were  entirely  in  error.  Mr.  Gowen  was  there.  Think- 

} ing,  as  excitement  ran  high,  and  outrages  were  being  almost 
I daily  and  nightly  perpetrated  in  all  portions  of  the  coal 
r country,  that  the  threats  of  the  Mollie  Maguires  to  kill  the 
I President  of  the  Company,  might,  if  unprevented,  be  car- 
i ried  out,  I took  precautions  to  block  the  enemies  of  that 


354 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


gentleman  in  this  regard.  Detectives  were  sent  from  Phila- 
deli)hia,  unknown  to  him,  to  watch  over  Mr.  Gowen,  and 
McParlan,  alias  McKenna,  was  ordered  to  Pottsville  to  see 
that  the  Mollies  were  not  allowed  a chance  of  preparation 
to  strike  at  the  President  without  the  knowledge  was  com- 
municated to  others.  It  was  during  this  excitement  that 
McKenna  met  with  a mishap,  which  I must  briefly  describe. 

He  was,  one  fine  morning,  walking  about  the  city,  and 
came  upon  a suspicious  looking  man,  who,  the  detective 
thought,  was  throwing  himself  more  frequently  than  abso- 
lutely necessary  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Gowen,  and  deter-  i 
mined  to  see  who  he  was  and  what  disposition  he  made  of 
himself.  Informing  Idnden  of  this  intention,  he  started. 

The  person  under  surveillance  first  entered  Dormer’s  Sheri- 
dan House,  remained  there  a short  time  and,  coming  out, 
went  to  Hughes’  drinking  place,  in  Center  Street.  In  this 
way  he  consumed  the  time  until  ten  o’clock  at  night,  Mc- 
Kenna keeping  continually  on  his  trail,  but  entirely  useen 
and  unsuspected  by  the  visitor.  This  constituted  some 
twelve  hours  of  continuous  shadowing,  and  the  operative 
had  discovered  nothing,  except  that  his  man  consumed  a 
large  quantity  of  liquor  and  walked  very  fast,  occasionally  I 
talking  a short  time  with  Reading  Mollies.  He  was  well  j 
tired  of  the  business,  but  determined  to  see  where  the  party  j 
made  his  headquarters  before  he  left  him.  It  was  surpris-  ; 
ing  how  many  people  that  comparative  stranger  knew  in  j. 
Pottsville,  and  equally  miraculous  how  fast  he  flew  over  the  j 
uneven  ground,  climbing  the  hills  like  a native,  and  never 
stumbling  or  falling,  even  after  imbibing  whisky  enough  to 
kill  an  ox.  McKenna,  meanwhile,  had  been  unable  to  secure 
anything  to  appease  either  hunger  or  thirst  and  was  nearly 
prostrated.  j 

Finally  the  man  traveled,  at  a late  hour,  on  a hurried 
walk,  up  Mahantongo  Street,  and,  after  a long  and  toilsome 
pilgrimage,  which  the  operative  thought  would  never  end, 


THE  LEGISLATIVE  COMMISSION. 


355 


paused  before  a small  house  in  an  eastern  suburb  of  the  city, 
looked  cautiously  about,  to  see  that  nobody  observed  him, 
and  then,  leaping  the  garden  fence,  entered  the  rear  door  of 
the  premises.  A light  still  burned  in  the  kitchen,  and  the 
detective,  assuring  himself  by  actual  observation  that  his 
party  did  not  live  in  the  dwelling,  but  was  courting  the  cook 
in  the  back  apartment,  secreted  himself  in  the  shadow  of  a 
large  tree,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  awaited 
results.  The  stranger  stopped  more  than  an  hour.  Mc- 
Kenna, his  patience  and  strength  quite  spent,  still  perse- 
vered in  maintaining  his  watch. 

Presently  he  heard  unsteady  footsteps  approaching,  and, 
fearing  discovery,  the  operative  sat  down  on  the  sidewalk, 
took  off  his  boot,  and  ])retended  to  be  very  busily  engaged 
in  extracting  some  apocryphal  sand  and  gravel  which  had 
worked  into  it  through  an  indefinite  hole  in  the  upper- 
leather.  To  the  surprise  of  McKenna,  he  was  accosted 
by  a thick,  lubberly,  short-set  city  policeman,  evidently  a 
German.  Seeing  the  pseudo  Mollie,  he  rolled  along  toward 
his  resting-place,  and,  in  a decidedly  thick  and  drunken 
tone,  demanded  : 

“ What  for  you  lofe  about  here,  eh  ? ” 

McKenna  examined  his  boot  more  attentively,  and  an- 
swered respectfully  : 

“ Begorra  ! Me  boot  hurts  me  foot ! Sure,  an’  I am 
gittin’  some  gravel  stones  out  of  it,  when  I mane  to  start  for 
home  ! ” 

“ Py  tarn  ! I shows  you  what  for  you  lounge  around  in 
der  dark ! Get  away  from  dis ! Marsch  along  on  der 
schtreets  ! ” 

Without  waiting  for  McKenna  to  obey  him,  which  he  was 
preparing  to  do,  by  drawing  on  his  boot — meanwhile  keep- 
ing a sharp  eye  upon  the  door  of  the  house  in  which  his 
friend  was  concealed — the  brutal  and  besotted  wretch  struck 
the  detective  a savage  blow  on  the  head  with  his  heavy  club. 


356 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  VO  ST. 


Although  it  was  an  entirely  unprovoked  attack,  and  the 
stroke  brought  blood  freely  from  his  forehead  and  nostrils, 
the  agent  gave  no  answer,  and  made  no  effort  to  retaliate. 
A second  stroke,  intended  for  his  head,  was  parried  skillfully 
with  his  arm,  and  he  walked  away,  down  the  street.  The 
vagabond  policeman  staggered  along  a few  paces  and  fell 
down  upon  the  walk,  in  a state  of  drunken  unconsciousness. 
Continuing  until  he  reached  the  shadow  of  the  Catholic 
church,  McKenna  stopped,  bound  up  his  head  as  well  as  he 
could,  and,  then  seeing  his  man  emerge  from  the  kitchen, 
he  once  more  started  in  pursuit.  It  seems  that  the  fellow 
had  been"  merely  paying  a visit  to  his  sweetheart,  as  he  took 
the  road  for  the  country,  and,  after  following  him  several 
miles,  the  operative  dropped  the  trail  and  returned  to  his 
boarding-house. 

The  next  day  McKenna  was  a horrible  sight  to  look  upon. 
With  eyes  clad  in  mourning,  scalp  bound  up  in  plasters, 
clothing  torn  and  soiled,  and  limbs  bruised,  he  thought  he 
had  learned  quite  enough  of  Pottsville  and  its*  policemen. 
And  Pottsville  had  had  enough  of  him,  in  his  character  of  a 
Mollie  Maguire.  It  is  fair  to  say  that  the  particular  watch- 
man spoken  of  did  not  remain  on  the  force  many  weeks 
longer,  his  place  having  been  filled  by  worthier  material. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 

In  the  interim,  while  many  of  the  collieries  were  begin- 
ning to  work,  making  up  for  lost  time,  and  others  putting 
machinery  in  order,  preparing  to  do  so,  the  Mollies  kept 
themselves  as  active  as  ever,  and  McAndrew  found  himself 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


357 


SO  busily  employed,  attending  to  the  interests  of  his  division, 
that  he  was  entirely  unable  to  put  his  threat,  to  leave  the 
neighborhood,  into  execution,  had  he  continued  of  that 
mind.  He  was  so  chagrined  by  the  failure  of  his  comrades 
to  kill  Thomas,  that,  for  a fortnight,  he  made  it  his  principal 
daily  duty  to  saunter  about  the  streets,  abusing  the  unsuc- 
cessful men  as  “blundering  idiots  ” and  “ arrant  co^yards,” 
drinking  much  whisky,  and  everywhere  asserting  that,  if  the 
job  were  to  be  tried  again  he  would  trust  nobody,  but  just 
attend  to  it  in  person.  At  about  this  time  the  Bodymaster 
obtained  employment  in  one  of  the  Reading  Company’s 
mines,  was  well  contented,  and  said  no  more  about  going 
away.  As  McKenna  had  kept  his  word,  and  helped  him  all 
he  could,  and  really  been  instrumental  in  finding  McAndrew 
something  profitable  to  do,  the  Bodymaster  was  a firmer 
friend  of  the  operative  than  ever.  He  proclaimed  aloud, 
wherever  he  went,  that  there  was  “ no  better  man  living  than 
Jim  McKenna.”  Few  were  bold  enough  to  dispute  this 
statement.  But  for  poor,  unfortunate  Mike  Doyle,  the 
Bodymaster  chose  only  hard  and  insulting  words.  He  was 
especially  severe  upon  him,  as  it  secured  belief  that  he 
might  easily  have  finished  Thomas  had  he  not  run  off  the 
ground  too  early  in  the  game. 

It  was  now  arranged  that  Gonier  James  should  be  shot,  on 
or  about  the  fifth  of  July,  when  a night  picnic  was  to  be 
held  in  the  neighborhood  of  Shenandoah.  McAndrew 
even  went  to  Girardville,  to  see  Kehoe  and  have  him  fur- 
nish four  men  to  do  the  act,  but  the  King  of  the  Mollies 
said  there  were  none  in  that  place  capable  of  transacting 
such  delicate  business.  McAndrew  traveled  to  Big  Mine 
Run,  found  Barney  Dolan,  with  a similar  result,  and  returned 
to  Girardville,  where  he  met  Larry  Crean,  Bodymaster,  and 
that  officer  bluntly  refused  his  request.  Father  Bridgeman 
had,  only  the  previous  Sabbath,  denounced  Kehoe  and  him- 
self from  the.  altar,  and  the  Mollies  were  in’  a state  of  per- 


358 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


tiirbation  from  that  reason.  Otherwise  the  County  Delegate 
and  the  President  of  Ciirardville  Division  might  have  been 
more  efficient  and  prompt  in  seconding  McAndrevv’s  propo- 
sition. As  it  was,  that  person  felt  constrained  to  go  home, 
his  aims  as  far  from  fulfillment  as  when  he  first  departed  from 
Shenandoah.  He  told  McKenna,  the  same  night,  that  Jack 
Kehoe  was  too  mean  to  be  half-way  honest,  and  that  he  had 
barely  given  John  Gibbons  a dollar  and  fifty  cents  toward 
defraying  expenses  to  Luzerne  County,  which  was  in  con- 
trast with  the  action  of  Tom  Donahue,  who  donated  two 
dollars  in  money,  hired  a horse  and  buggy,  and  drove  Gib- 
bons over  to  Rupert  Station,  where  he  was  to  take  the  train 
for  Wilkesbarre — Tom  Donahue  being  a poor  man,  while 
Kehoe  was  known  to  have  plenty  of  money. 

The  detective  now  knew  where  John  Gibbons  was. 

P'inally,  Pat  Dolan,  a brother  of  Barney,  sent  word  to  the 
troubled  Bodymaster  of  Shenandoah  that  he  would  find  some 
men,  and  lead  them  himself,  and  see  that  the  James  affair 
was  satisfactorily  settled.  The  party  was  surely  expected  to 
arrive  in  Shenandoah,  at  or  before  the  picnic  of  the  fifth  of 

It  was  near  the  same  date  that  Pat  Butler,  of  Loss  Creek, 
made  his  advent  in  Shenandoah,  caused  McKenna  and  some 
others  to  meet  him  in  the  bush,  and  then  and  there  gave  out 
that  he  would,  in  a day  or  two,  bring  five  men  over  to  take 
the  life  of  a boss  named  P'orsythe,  who  had,  in  some  man- 
ner, made  himself  repugnant  to  a few  of  the  clan. 

It  was  definitely  arranged,  through  a suggestion  from  the 
operative,  that  a second  meeting,  to  perfect  the  plan  of 
attack,  should  convene,  the  following  night,  in  a small 
school-house  on  Number  Three  Hill.  By  this  postpone- 
ment McKenna  gained  time  in  which  to  notify  Superinten- 
dent Franklin,  who,  in  turn,  took  measures  for  warning  Mr. 
Forsythe,  and  this  Mollie  scheme  of  assassination  was 
wholly  defeated.  Mr.  Forsythe  had  urgent  business  else- 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


359 


where  for  a few  weeks.  Butler  held  his  meeting;  McKenna 
attended,  witnessed  the  discomfiture  of  the  gentleman  from 
T^oss  Creek,  when  he  learned  that  Forsythe  had  been  sud- 
denly called  away,  and  was  as  loud  and  vehement  as  the 
rest  in  execrating  the  ill-luck  that  dragged  a doomed  man 
from  their  murderous  hands.  Not  a person  present  sus- 
pected  that  Forsythe  had  been  informed  of  the  plot  to  take 
his  life.  This  was  far  from  their  thoughts.  The  dis- 
appointed gathering  in  the  dark,  at  the  rustic  school-house, 
dispersed  at  an  early  hour,  and  the  Mollies  retired,  unac- 
countably cheated  of  their  prey,  to  their  homes. 

The  fifth  of  July  arrived,  but  not  the  men  promised  from 
Big  Mine  Run.  Certainly  they  did  not  show  themselves  to 
the  committee  of  Shenandoah  Division,  McKenna,  John 
Morris,  and  Mike  Darcy,  appointed  to  receive  and  lead 
them  up  to  their  victim.  To  state . the  whole  truth,  this 
committee  was  purposely  dispersed  by  McKenna,  who  had 
no  desire  to  see  James  killed,  and  if  Dolan’s  party  came  to 
the  picnic  there  were  none  present  to  show  them  the  least 
attention.  It  is  more  than  probable  they  never  reached  the 
vicinity.  The  operative  sent  Morris  to  the  base-ball  ground, 
on  a plea  that  he  should  bring  home  Tom  Hurley.  Morris 
at  first  obeyed  orders,  but  found  Hurley  so  drunk  that  he 
could  not  be  forced  away,  hence  went  in  for  a spree  on  his 
own  account  and  remained  absent  until  past  midnight. 
Darcy  was  dispatched  in  another  direction,  with  a different 
excuse,  and  McKenna  then  waited  alone — waited  in  the 
city  of  Shenandoah,  where  he  conferred  with  Linden, 
informing  him  of  the  plans  afloat,  and  telling  him  to  have 
his  men  near  the  picnic  grounds,  in  case  his  own  schemes 
to  prevent  bloodshed  should  miscarry.  Returning  to  the 
festivities,  after  it  was  entirely  too  late  to  expect  the  Big 
Mine  Run  men,  the  detective  continued  the  watch. 
Dancing  was  ended  and  the  lights  nearly  all  put  out  when 
he  left — and  Corner  James  had  once  more  made  a narrow 


36o 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


escape.  Wliy  the  young  man  would  persist  in  staying  in  the 
neighborhood,  after  the  repeated  notifications  he  had  re- 
ceived to  leave,  or  fail  to  take  i)recautions  against  sudden 
surprises,  was  more  than  the  detectives  could  easily  explain. 

But  the  murderous  order  was  more  successful  in  other 
localities.  It  never  paused  or  permitted  its  purposes  to 
entirely  fail.  The  work  was  often  slow,  while  the  assassins 
•stayed  their  hands  from  week  to  week,  but  in  few  known  in- 
stances were  attempts,  once  prepared  for,  easily  abandoned 
until  the  task  had  met  at  least  partial  performance.  Wm. 
Thomas  was  a living  evidence  of  the  fact.  Time  was  yet  to 
bring  forth  many  dead  and  silent  witnesses  to  testify  to  the 
same  thing. 

The  city  of  Tamaqua,  in  Schuylkill  County,  is  a handsome 
place  of  five  thousand  .inhabitants,  located  fifteen  miles 
north-northeast  of  Pottsville,  on  the  Catawissa  Railroad,  and. 
connected  with  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading  Railway  by  a 
branch  from  Port  Clinton.  Like  all  the  larger  mountain 
towns  of  Pennsylvania,  Tamaqua  has  narrow  streets,  brick 
sidewalks,  steep  ascents  and  descents,  good  hotels,  fine  busi- 
ness and  residence  structures,  and  a mixed  population,  in  a 
great  measure  dependent  upon  the  mining  business  for  sup- 
port, There  are  seven  or  eight  churches,  which  ring  out 
their  musical  chimes  on  the  Sabbath  day,  with  the  usual 
complement  of  banks,  offices,  and  warehouses.  Broad  Street 
is  a principal  thoroughfare.  The  town,  or  borough,  has  its 
municipal  officers,  magistrates,  and  a small  city  police. 

On  the  night  of  Monday,  the  fifth  of  July,  1875,  the  ordi- 
narily quiet  city  was  considerably  excited  over  the  conclusion 
of  the  observance  of  the  national  anniversary,  which  had 
absorbed  attention  during  the  day.  There  were  many  peo- 
ple upon  the  streets,  among  others  a few  visitors  from  adjoin- 
ing localities.  The  police,  at  the  time,  consisted  of  only  two 
men,  Benj.  F.  Yost  and  Barney  McCarron,  the  former  a 
German  and  the  latter  of  Irish  descent,  and  they  were  ex- 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


361 


pected,  in  addition  to  regular  patrol  service,  to  light  and  ex- 
tinguish the  gas  lamps  in  the  principal  streets.  Yost  had 
experienced  considerable  trouble  with  the  Mollies,  at  the 
head  of  whom  was  one  James  Kerrigan ; had  arrested  the 
latter  for  drunkenness  on  several  occasions,  and,  as  would 
be  natural  in  his  position,  sometimes  felt  compelled  to  use 
his  club  to  enforce  obedience  on  the  part  of  those  appre- 
hended. McCarron  came  in  for  his  share  of  ill-will,  but, 
from  his  German  parentage,  Yost  was  peculiarly  disliked. 
Several  times  had  he  been  threatened  with  violence,  but, 
being  a fearless  man,  an  old  soldier,  and  veteran  of  many 
battles,  the  policeman  laughed  at  danger  and  kept  on  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty.  McCarron  was  also  openly  men- 
aced. 

Time  passed  until  about  midnight  of  the  fifth,  or  the  first 
small  hours  before, the  dawn  of  the  sixth,  when  McCarron 
and  Yost,  passing  Carroll’s  saloon,  noted  that  the  place  was 
still  open,  went  into  a hotel,  where  they  saw  and  drank  with 
Kerrigan — described  as  a small,  round-faced,  short  and 
stubbed  little  Irishman,  and  a miner,  but  then  out  of  em- 
ployment. Subsequently  they  moved  to  the  westward,  on 
Broad  Street,  extinguishing  the  lamps  in  their  way.  Soon 
their  task  was  almost  done,  and,  before  two  o’clock  in  the 
morning,  the  policemen  turned  toward  Yost’s  residence,  near 
the  corner  of  Broad  and  Lehigh  Streets,  to  partake  of  a 
lunch,  preparatory  to  finishing  up  the  night’s  work.  They 
had  not  put  out  all  the  lamps  in  the  locality,  but  it  was 
customary,  on  their  part,  to  have  some  refreshments  before 
ending  the  last  half  of  the  patrol,  during  which  the  city  would 
be  in  utter  darkness,  unless  the  moon  shone — which  it  did 
not — and,  on  this  occasion,  opened  Yost’s  front’gate,  passed 
to  a rear  door,  used  a latch  key,  went  into  the  house,  and 
found  a simple  repast  ready  spread  for  them,  Mrs.  Yost 
having  long  since  retired  to  her  chamber  on  the  second  floor 
of  the  building,  Having  satisfied  their  appetites  and  en- 


362 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


joyed  some  moments  of  repose,  they  emerged  from  the  same 
door  and  went  upon  the  street,  \>repared  to  turn  off  more 
lights.  Hearing  the  noise  below  Mrs.  Yost  was  awakened, 
arose,  the  night  being  warm,  and  sat  by  an  open  front  win- 
dow, sending  a loving  word  and  look  to  her  husband,  as  he 
and  his  companion  advanced  to  the  performance  of  their 
duty.  It  was  a few  minutes  after  two  o’clock  when  she  saw 
Yost  go  toward  the  lamp  at  the  corner,  place  the  ladder 
against  its  iron  post,  lightly  ascend  two  steps,  extending  his 
arm  to  shut  off  the  gas.  But  his  hand  never  reached  the 
base  of  the  lamp.\  The  woman  beheld  two  ra})idly  succeed- 
ing and  alarming  flashes  of  light,  instantly  followed  by  two 
loud  reports,  and  her  husband  fell,  his  face  still  turned  to- 
ward her,  lighted  up  by  the  rays  sent  slantingly  down  from 
the  still  blazing  gas  jet  That  was  all  her  eyes  saw.  That 
was  enough  for  her  ears  to  hear.  She  ran' madly  down  the 
stairs,  thinly  clad  as  she  was,  and  into  the  street,  through 
the  front  door,  beyond  the  gate,  and  met  the  wounded  man, 
staggering  and  weak  with  loss  of  blood,  clinging  to  the  fence, 
looking  toward  his  once  happy  home.  Alas ! happy  home 
no  more  ! 

“My  God,  Ben,  what  is  it?”  asked  Mrs.  Yost,  her  face 
turning  ghastly  white. 

The  wounded  policei^^an  threw  his  arms  pleadingly  forward 
to  her,  and  said,  faintly : 

“ Sis,  give  me  a kiss  ! I’m  shot  and  I have  to  die  ! ” 

She  ran  very  fast,  but  before  it  was  possible  to  reach  him, 
he  came  down  upon  the  pavement,  blood  spurted  from  his 
mouth,  and  he  was,  for  a few  minutes,  unconscious. 

Meantime  where  was  Barney  McCarron  ? 

Having  separated  from  Yost  upon  the  street,  he  was  going 
slowly  eastward,  in  the  direction  of  Mr.  Lebo’s  dwelling,  leav- 
ing the  other  officer  to  care  for  the  lamp  near  his  own 
house,  and  had  expected  him  to  come  up  in  a moment.  But 
that  moment  was  destined  never  to  arrive.  Not  hearing 


Sis.,  give  me  a kiss!  J' m shot  and  have  to  die  ! 


MURDER  OP  B.  F.  YOST. 


363 


Yost’s  familiar  footsteps,  McCarron  looked  backward  over 
his  shoulder,  at  the  very  second  of  time  that  Mrs.  Yost  was 
gazing  tenderly  in  the  same  direction.  He  heard  the  two 
pistol  shots,  saw  the  quick-following  flashes,  and  knew  that 
Yost  was  hit,  as  he  dropped  heavily  to  the  earth.  Two  dark 
figures  had  left  the  shadow  cast  by  a collection  of  shade  trees 
near  the  fence,  walked  to  within  a few  yards  of  the  police- 
men, discharged  their . weapons  and  started  on  a brisk  run 
toward  the  cemetery.  McCarron  immediately  set  out  in 
pursuit.  Gaining  somewhat  upon  the  assassins,  when  near 
a clump  of  bushes,  he  let  fly  two  shots  after  them,  and  the 
men  paused  long  enough  to  return  the  fire,  fortunately  with- 
out effect,  and  in  a second  resumed  their  precipitate  retreat. 
He  could  merely  see,  in  the  brief  moment  they  stood  in  the 
lamp-light,  that  one  was  a large  man  and  the  other  somewhat 
smaller.  It  was  useless  to  go  further  alone.  Hastening  at 
once  to  his  wounded  comrade,  he  aided  some  neighbors  to 
convey  him  into  the  house  that  they  had  so  recently  left  in 
such  joyous  mood.  There  Yost  was  placed  on  a lounge  and 
word  sent  for  a surgeon. 

Dr.  Solliday  lived  not  far  distant,  and  was  soon  on  the 
spot,  but,  after  a brief  examination  of  the  injured  man,  said 
he  could  live  but  a very  short  time.  The  bullet  had  passed 
in  at  the  right  side,  between  the  eighth  and  ninth  ribs,  and 
hemorrhage  would  be  sure  to  carry  him  off.  There  was  no 
human  skill  that  would  avail  anything.  The  end  must  come. 

Mrs.  Yost  heard  the  sentence,  and  burst  into  passionate 
weeping,  clasping  the  fast-paling  face  of  her  dying  husband 
in  her  two  hands,  and  kissing  his  livid  lips  as  if  her  caresses 
might  renew  his  short  lease  of  life. 

“ Do  you  understand  ? ” said  the  physician.  “ You  are  sure 
to  leave  us  in  a very  short  time — possibly  in  one  moment  ! 
Tell  me,  before  it  is  too  late,  all  you  know  of  your  mur- 
derers ! ” 

The  dying  man’s  fast-glazing  eyes  slowly  opened  and 


364 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


Stared  vacantly  in  the  face  of  his  friend.  But  he  recognized 
the  necessity  for  action. 

“ I know,’’  he  answered,  in  German,  “ I know ! You 
want  the  whole  truth  ! ” 

“Yes!” 

“ Well  1 I was  just  outening  the  light  when  two  men 
made  up  to  me  and  fired  ! They  came  down  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  cemetery,  and,  when  they  had  done  their  work 
on  me,  ran  back  in  the  same  way.  They  were  two  Irishmen. 
I truly  think  they  shot  me  by  mistake,  meaning  to  kill  Mc- 
Carron,  there  ! They  had  threatened  him,  and  he  was  afraid 
he  would  get  it.  They  were  two  strangers.  Still,  I should 
not  say  that,  for  I have  seen  them  before.  They  were  both 
down  at  Jim  Carroll’s — a party  of  them — last  night,  and 
Barney  pointed  them  out  to  me,  or  I showed  them  to  him-: — 
I can’t  tell  which,  now — as  we  went  by  Carroll’s  I ” 

This  was  all  that  the  dying  man  could  say  just  then. 
After  resting  a space,  during  which  his  faithful  mate  knelt 
at  the  side  of  the  sofa  and  bathed  his  brow  with  her  tears, 
he  motioned  McCarron,  who  stood  nigh,  to  move  up  closer, 
and  said  to  him  : 

“ Barney,  who  were  those  men  that  I pointed  out  to  you — 
or  you  pointed  out  to  me — which  was  it? — as  we  passed  Jim 
Carroll’s  saloon,  last  night  ? Didn’t  you  remark,  ‘ They’re 
fellows  from  the  other  side  ? ’ ” 

By  “ the  other  side,”  Tamaqua  people  described  the  coun- 
try the  other  side  of,  or  beyond,  the  Schuylkill. 

McCarron  bowed  his  head  and  assented.  He  remembered 
the  time  and  event,  but  did  not  know  the  men. 

To  all  his  friends,  Mr.  Shindel,  Mr.  Lebo,  Mr.  Shepp — ■ 
the  latter  his  brother-in-law — Mr.  Houser,  and  others,  the 
policeman  made  precisely  similar  declarations,  knowing  that 
he  must  die.  He  did  not  want  to  accuse  anybody  unjustly. 
To  Dr.  Solliday,  who  questioned  him  once  more,  he  said  : 

“ One  was  a large  man,  and  the  other  was  smaller  ! ” 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


365 


‘‘Was  not  one  Jimmy  Kerrigan  ? ” 

“ No  ! He  was  larger  ! Kerrigan  was  not  there  ! If 
so,  1 did  not  see  him  ! And  I had  been  with  Kerrigan  just 
before,  at  the  United  States  Hotel,  where  he  drank  with  me  ! 
Oh,  no  ! He  didn’t  do  it  ! ” 

“ Was  it  Duffv  ? ” 

The  doctor  was  aware  that  Yost  had  had  trouble  with  a 
man  by  that  name. 

“ I am  sure  none  of  our  men  did  it  ! They  were  stran- 
gers, believe  me  ! ” 

To  his  brother-in-law,  Daniel  Shepp,  the  prostrate  and 
dying  man  said,  as  he  closely  held  his  hands,  and  the  life- 
blood slowly  ebbed  from  his  side  : 

“ Oh,  Dan  ! To  think  that  I served  so  long  in  the 
army,  was  in  so  many  hard-fought  battles,  and  escaped  all 
the  bullets,  to  die  now  innocently  ! ” 

This  was  about  the  last  that  the  brave  officer  said,  exceptr 
ing  the  utterance  of  some  gentle  words  to  his  distracted 
wife.  At  a little  past-nine  o’clock,  the  morning  of  the  sixth 
of  June,  1875,  seven  hours  subsequent  to  receiving  his 
wound,  Benj.  F.  Yost  breathed  his  last  breath  on  earth,  and 
one  of  the  most  cruel  murders  of  all  the  great  number  per- 
petrated by  the  Mollie  Maguires  was  consummated.  It 
was  even  then  implicitly  believed  to  have  been  the  work  of 
the  order,  as,  outside  its  blood-stained  ring,  Yost  did  not 
have  an  enemy.  The  fact,  also  commonly  credited,  that 
- the  assassins  were  strangers  in  the  borough,  or  at  least  not 
residents  of  it,  gave  color  to  this  supposition. 

The  carnival  of  blood  had  fairly  commenced.  This  deed 
was  speedily  to  be  followed  by  others  of  an  equally  mys- 
terious nature,  and  no  man  could  tell  whose  turn  must  come 
next. 

■'  McCarron  gave  it  up,  after  questioning  Yost,  that  neither 
Kerrigan  nor  Duffy,  both  of  whom  were  enemies  of  the 
dead  policeman,  from  the  same  cause,  having  been  arrested 


366 


MURDER  OF  B.  F.  YOST. 


by  him  while  they  were  drunk,  and,  resisting,  having  felt 
the  weight  of  his  baton,  had  fired  the  fatal  shot ; still  it 
could  not  be  erased  fiom  his  memory  or  belief  that  they 
possibly  knew  something  about  it.  Thinking  of  the  men 
he  had  noted  at  Carroll’s,  and  to  whom  Yost  had,  on  the 
occasion,  made  allusion,  the  partner  of  the  deceased  deter- 
mined, unknown  to  any  person,  to  make  an  investigation  of 
the  locality^  and  find  if  the  same  persons  were  still  there. 
The  hour  was  nigh  half-past  four  in  the  morning.  Yost  was  ; 
fast  losing  consciousness.  McCarron  went  to  Carroll’s,  but,  1 
after  walking  about  the  house  and  into  the  back  yard,  he  | 
saw  no  lights,  heard  no  sounds,  or  anything  to  indicate  that 
people  were  astir  in  the  dwelling  or  saloon.  Evidently  all  ! 
were  in  bed.  Nothing  could  be  discovered  of  either  citi- 
zens or  strangers,  and  he  therefore  returned  to  Yost’s  resi- 
dence and  there  remained  until  taking  the  eternal-  farewell 
of  his  friend  and  companion. 

B.  F.  Yost  was  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and  universally  re-  ; 
spected  in  Tamaqua,  his  widow  constituting  not  the  only  one 
that  shed  bitter  tears  over  his  untimely  taking  off.  Hundreds 
of  men  and  women  in  the  city,  who  knew  his  brave,  frank, 
and  honest  heart,  and  remembered  the  warm,  firm  grasp  of 
his  strong  hand,  felt  that  they  could  mingle  their  tears  with 
those  of  the  one  left  wholly  bereaved  and  desolate  by  the 
murderous  bullet  of  the  cowardly  assassin.  Some  of  these  ; 
thought  that  crime  had  now  gone  its  length,  and  it  was  time  ; 
its  course  was  ended.  They  had  only  seen  the  beginning, 
but  believed  the  end  was  in  view.  Among  this  class  were  ■ 
many  men  of  wealth  and  influence,  and  those  who  grieved  to  i 
see  the  fair  fame  of  their  home  smirched  with  innocent  blood. 
They  then  determined,  if  they  could  prevent,  violence  should 
no  longer  reign  in  Schuylkill  County. 


TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA. 


S^7 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MCKENNA  TAKES  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMAQUA. 

The  wounding  of  Thomas,  and  subsequent  murder  of 
Yost,  weTe  enough  to  assure  me  that  more  work  of  the  same 
character  would  speedily  follow,  unless  earnest  endeavors 
were  put  forth  to  prevent.  Do  the  best  I could,  the  Mollie 
Macruires  would  cause  blood  to  flow.  Their  thirst  had  been 

O 

excited  by  the  sight  of  the  crimson  tide,  and  other  victims 
must  be  struck  down  before  the  appetite  was  appeased. 
Maddened  by  the  goadings  of  the  few  turbulent  spirits  in  their 
midst,  I knew  they  would  never  stop  until  they  found  the  un- 
avoidable avenger  on  their  track  and  the  outraged  law  strong 
enough  to  punish,  blood  for  blood,  life  for  life,  eye  for  eye, . 
tooth  for  tooth,  hand  for  hand,  foot  for  foot.”  It  was  my  duty 
to  commence  the  work,  upon  the  small  foundation  furnished, 
in  building  up  a force  which  should  withstand  the  eflbrts  of 
the  league  and  successfull}^battle  with  the  midnight  foe.  My 
plans  were  quickly  formed,  as  quickly  transmitted  to  Phila- 
delphia, and  Mr.  Franklin  gave  them,  as  far  as  was  thought 
advisable,  to  the  operatives  engaged  in  the  mining  country. 
Linden,  laboring  somewhat  openly — though  not  ostensibly 
for  me — was  secretly  to  co-operate  with  McParlan,  alias 
AfcKenna,  who  was  by  no  means  to  be  acknowledged  by  any 
one  as  in  the  most  distant  manner  connected  with  the 
Agency.  On  the  contrary,  everything  was  to  be  done  to 
keep  down  a suspicion,  should  one  arise,  ever  so  faintly 
foreshadowing  any  such  relation.  McParlan  must  be  de- 
pended upon  to  perform  the  principal  service,  in  keeping 
track  and  securing  the  arrest  of  the  men  who  had  attacked 
Thomas,  as  well  as  those  who  were  guilty  of  assassinating 


y 


3^8  TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA. 

policeman  Yost.  The  substantial  chain  of  circumstances, 
and  the  testimony,  must  be  so  direct,  unequivocal  and  con- 
vincing as  to  leave  no  chance  loojjhole  for  the  escape  of  the 
murderers,  no  scope  for  an  before  a single  guilty  man 

could  be  captured  and  brought  to  the  prisoner’s  box.  Never 
had  a defendant,  a member  of  this  thoroughly  organized 
association  for  murder  and  all  sorts  of  crime,  received  punish- 
ment through  the  verdict  of  a jury,  and  many  good  men 
despaired  of  ever  accomplishing  such  a work  ; but  I truly 
considered  that,  if  given  plenty  of  time  and  saved  from  the 
intermeddling  of  others,  I could  surmount  the  trouble,  and 
after  a while  drive  the  Alollie  Maguires  from  their  strong- 
holds. I would  not  be  spurred  on  to  take  precipitate  action. 
My  plans  must  all  be  brought  to  their  proper  denouement. 

Assuming  such  safeguards  as  he  might  think  for  the  best, 
ATcParlan  was  directed  to  go  to  Tamaqua  and  learn,  if  possi- 
ble, who  had  killed  Yost,  and  there  lay  the  groundwork  of  a 
superstructure  upon  which  the  prosecution  of  the  assassins 
might  be  founded.  He  was  to  obtain  such  information  as  he 
could,  using  his  official  relation  with  the  order,  as  far  as  it 
might  go,  and  any  other  artifice,  or  detective  scheme,  which 
should  appear  useful  in  gaining  the  desired  results. 

The  command  for  a change  of  his  base  of  operations 
reached  ATcKenna  on  the  fifteenth  of  July,  and  he  at  once 
prepared  to  obey. 

Linden  also  received  instructions  to  second  AEcKenna, 
but  to  refrain  from  making  his  appearance  in  Tamaqua  until 
requested  by  the  other  detective  to  do  so. 

The  Superintendent’s  letter  to  AIcKenna  did  not  find  him 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  best  of  spirits  for  a most  dangerous 
and  difficult  undertaking,  from  reasons  which  I will  proceed 
to  explain.  The  previous  day,  Frank  AIcAndrew  having 
moved  into  a house  at  Indian  Ridge  Breaker — or  Davis’ 
Breaker,  as  it  was  familiarly  called — engaged  with  a number 
of  Alollies  in  a great  carousal,  which  lasted  until  midnight, 


TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA.  369 


and,  having  inveigled  McKenna  into  the  affair,  succeeded  in 
keeping  him  up  and  em[)loyed,  there  and  elsewhere,  all 
night.  This,  with  a return  of  a chronic  sore  throat,  from 
which  he  was  suffering,  made  him  almost  ill  again. 

Indian  Ridge  Breaker  is  situated  on  the  road  by  Lana- 
gan’s  Patch,  leading  to  Mahanoy  City,  from  Shenandoah,  and 
not  far  from  the  shebeen  shop  of  Mrs.  Bridget  Monaghan, 
twice  a widow,  but  far  from  ancient  at  that,  although  “ fat, 
fair,  and  forty  ” was  applicable  as  an  imperfect  description 
of  the  lady.  She  occui)ied  the  stone  basement  of  a tumble- 
down,  three-story  wooden  building,  the  upper  floors  of  which 
were  devoted  to  the  midnight  gambols  of  predatory  cats  and 
daily  incursions  of  migratory  rats — the  hallways  filled  with 
webs  of  spiders  that,  with  the  mice,  made  nests  in  the  cor- 
ners of  the  vacant  rooms — and  her  subterranean  abode  was, 
like  that  of  handsome  Micky  Cuff,  the  habitation  of  geese, 
ducks,  chickens,  goats,  and  pigs,  among  which  Mrs.  Bridget 
walked,  “ monarch  of  all  she  surveyed.”  This  was  a favor- 
ite and  frequent  place  of  resort  for  McAndrew  and  other 
Mollies,  and  the  stories  that  gained  circulation  concerning 
the  flitting  of  spirits,  clad  all  in  white,  through  the  upper 
corridors  of  the  structure,  at  the  dead  hour  of  night,  and  the 
gleams  of  an  occasional  flame — burning  pale,  sickly,  blue 
and  ghastly,  as  some  benighted  miner  was  fain  to  report  to 
his  superstitious  household — all  may  have  been  due  to  the 
meetings  of  the  society  in  the  otherwise  untenanted  place, 
and  the  failure  of  the  impromptu  janitor  to  put  up  a curtain 
close  enough  to  prevent  a ray  of  the  single  candle,  lighting 
their  deliberations,  from  escaping.  It  was  a famous  place 
for  the  telling  of  ghost  stories,  and  McKenna,  who  was  an 
adept  at  the  relation  of  mysterious  events,  as  well  as  singing 
songs  and  dancing  flings  and  jigs,  frequently  held  the  Mollies 
spell-bound  for  hours,  while  he  chronicled  the  scenes  he  had 
seen  and  the  ghosts  and  ghouls  he  had  heard  about  in  the 
old  country.  His  legends  were  in  great  demand,  and  some- 
16* 


370  TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA. 


times  he  indulged  in  the  narration  of  one  in  the  presence  of 
the  widow,  who,  meanwhile,  would  draw  herself  up  close  to 
the  story-teller — story-teller  in  more  respects  than  one,  it  is 
to  be  feared — and  declare  that  the  company  positively  should 
not  leave  her  “ hotel  ” until  daylight,  if  she  had  to  supply 
the  drinks  and  other  comfortables  at  her  own  expense.  It 
was  not  difficult  to  win  over  the  Mollies  to  remain'  and 
“keep  off  the  banshee^''  if  she  only  put  out  the  overflowing 
noggin  with  a generous  hand.  And  this  she  did.  To  the 
credit  of  the  widow  be  it  said,  the  love  of  drink  and  indul- 
gence in  gossip  were  among  the  worst  of  her  failings.  In 
every  other  regard  she  was  considered  a respectable  and 
honorable  member  of  her  kind  of  society. 

During  the  repetition  of  these  hair-raising  and  blood-curd- 
ling fabrications,  given  in  the  detective’s  best  vein,  the  Mollies 
habitually  and  involuntarily  threw  off  reserve  and  spoke 
boastfully  of  their  own  adventures,  not  forgetting  deeds  they 
had  recently  participated  in.  Through  this  action  McKenna 
received  mg.ny  a hint  that  he  could  use  and  improve  upon 
when  the  time  came.  It  was  easy,  under  such  circumstan- 
ces, to  obtain  the  confidence  of  the  most  hardened  of  the 
brotherhood. 

The  night  spoken  of,  McAndrew,  Ed  Ferguson,  and  Mc- 
Kenna, with  several  more  of  the  gang,  were  at  Wiggan’s 
Patch,  and,  returning  to  Shenandoah,  the  proposition  was 
made  to  wake  up  the  widow  and  take  a drink  in  her  shop. 
Accordingly,  Ferguson  knocked  loudly  at  the  rickety  door. 

“Who’s  there?”  asked  a woman’s  voice  from  within. 

“Sure,  it’s  Ed  Ferguson,  and  some  friends!  Let  us  in, 
Mrs.  Monaghan  1 ” 

“ All  right  1 ’•’  said  the  lady,  and  in  a few  moments  the 
fastenings  of  the  entrance  were  undone  and  the  party  en- 
tered, warmly  welcomed  by  the  landlady,  who,  from  the  preva- 
lent heat  of  the  night  and  sudden  advent  of  her  visitors, 
had  not  donned  any  perceptible  amount  of  clotlhng,  but 


TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAM  AQUA.  371 


proceeded  to  help  them  to  liquor  with  the  grace  of  a mer- 
maid in  its  native  element,  without  even  unfastening  the 
strings  of  her  dingy  night- cap. 

There  was  a feebly-burning  lamp  on  the  counter,  which 
illuminated  the  room,  for  it  was  by  no  means  a large  place, 
showing  the  simple  array  of  bottles  on  the  shelves,  the  bed, 
and  other  scanty  furniture.  But  there  was  more  in  the  apart- 
ment than,  at  first  glance,  the  operative  was  willing  to 
believe.  Seeing  that  Ferguson  was  moving  uneasily  about, 
Mrs.  Monaghan  said  : 

“ Have  a care,  Ed  Ferguson  ! Mind  where  ye  put  down 
your  two  big  fate,  and  don’t  step  on  me  chickens,  plaze  ! ” 

Having  taken  their  drinks  and  paid  for  them,  the  men 
were  in  for  a lark,  and  Ferguson,  knowing  some  of  the 
peculiarities  of  the  widow,  proceeded  to  make  a search  for 
curiosities— and  he  found  them.  At  the  same  time  the  de- 
tective was  nearly  dead  with  the  foul  and  fetid  atmosphere 
filling  the  unventilated  basement. 

“What  have  we  here?”  said  Ferguson,  who,  while 
groping  around  where  Bridget  said  “he  had  no  business” — • 
under  the  bed — had  caught  somebody  by  the  naked  feet. 
“ A human  being,  as  I live  ! And  a woman  at  that ! ” 

He  first  dragged  out  in  this  ungraceful  way  a female — 
Alollie  Williams  by  name — who,  stopping  accidentally  with 
the  landlady  over  night,  had  been  frightened  by  the  noise 
the  visitors  made  before  entering  and  secreted  herself  beneath 
the  low  bedstead  with  a part  of  the  widow’s  portable  property. 
An  inventory  of  other  things  discovered  in  the  apartment 
would  read  as  follows  : 

I Widow  Bridget  Monaghan — very  angry  and  flushed  as  to  face  and 
scantily  clad. 

I maiden  lady,  of  uncertain  age,  ditto  as  to  raiment,  and  badly  scared. 

5 goats,  scattered  about  the  floor  very  promiscuously, 

37  chickens — including  one  plucky  game-coc'k. 

I collection  of  new-washed  female  raiment,  hanging  damp  on  the  line. 


372  TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAM  AQUA. 


5 ducks  and  a drake. 

I goose  and  a gander. 

1 demijohn — contents,  whisky. 

2 tin  pots  for  drinking  purposes — of  tin. 

I stove  and  furniture — badly  cracked  in  places. 

I section  of  a log,  for  a chair — not  cushioned. 

I collection  of  miscellaneous  articles,  on  the  shelves,  intended  for  sale. 

His  comrades  drank  several  times,  but  McKenna  could 
not  stomach  the  liquor  in  that  den,  and,  taking  a tin  dinner 
pail,  which  he  found,  he  washed  it  out  and  milked  one  of  the 
goats,  swallowing  the  warm  fluid  with  a relish. 

As  a natural  consequence  of  the  time,  place,  and  oppor- 
tunity, McKenna  was  importuned  for  songs,  which  he  sung, 
sitting  beside  the  widow,  on  her  bed,  with  Mollie  Williams 
nigh,  perched  on  the  wooden  excuse  for  a chair,  and  the 
equally  interested  men,  sitting  on  their  haunches,  and  in 
various  extraordinary  attitudes,  around  the  room.  The  few 
following  hours  until  morning  were  consumed  in  the  relation 
of  sundry  soul-harrowing  tales  of  ghosts,  haunted  houses  and 
church-yards,  hobgoblins  and  spirits,  to  which  all  listened  in 
silence,  only  excepting  an  occasional  interruption  by  the 
widow  when  proffering  more  liquor,  until  the  young  man’s 
throat  and  tongue  fairly  gave  out  from  too  much  exercise, 
and  he  was  constrained  to  beg  for  a season  of  rest.  The 
sun  was  rising  when  the  company,  very  well  soaked  in  bad 
liquor,  oozed  out  of  Mrs.  Monaghan’s  cellar  and  started  on 
a serpentine  trail  for  home.  As  a consequence  of  inhaling 
so  much  bad  air,  and  from  protracted  confinement  in  foul 
gases,  the  operative  was  so  ill  that,  when  he  received  Mr. 
Trankiin’s  instructions  to  leave  for  Tamaqua,  he  felt  more 
like  kee[)ing  hts  bed  and  sending  for  a physician. 

The  uninitiated  reader  may  be  inclined  to  think  my  descrip- 
tion of  Mrs.  Monaghan’s  groggery  an  exaggeration.  The 
thought  is  pardonable,  but  I assure  those  who  have  followed 
me  thus  far  in  this  recital,  that,  instead  of  being  overcolored, 


lie  sung,  sitting  beside  the  widow,  on  her  bed.  with  Mollie  Wilhams  nigh,  perched  on  the  wooden  exctise  f 

fr  chair P 


TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA.  3/3 


the  whole  truth,  in  all  its  details,  has  not  been  told.  It 
could  not  well  be  revealed  without  giving  offense. 

Mrs.  Monaghan  subsequently  married  a man  by  the  name 
of  Breyer,  is  yet  living,  and  can,  if  she  will,  substantiate 
every  point  1 have  given  in  reference  to  this  night’s  adven- 
ture in  her  residence. 

To  make  matters  more  complicated,  a letter  came  with 
Mr.  Franklin’s,  from  Linden,  warning  McKenna  to  look 
out,  as  he  was  suspected  by  one  of  the  principal  bankers  of 
Shenandoah,  of  being  a professional  burglar,  hanging  about 
the  city  for  no  good  purpose.  So  firmly  fixed  was  the  man 
of  money  and  bonds  in  his  belief,  that  he  made  the  journey 
to  Pottsville,  interviewed  a city  detective,  and  tried  hard  to 
induce  the  officer  to  go  to  Shenandoah,  see  McKenna,  and 
keep  close  watch  of  his  movements.  The  capitalist  said  he 
could  not  tell  when  his  vault  might  be  attacked,  and  was 
fearful  its  valuable  contents  would  fall,  easy-made  plunder, 
into  the  lap  of  that  dreadful  Irishman.  Linden  informed  the 
Pottsville  policeman  that,  although  McKenna  was  rogue 
enough  for  almost  anything,  charged  with  a brutal  murder  in 
Buffalo,  where  he  formerly  knew  him,  and,  as  he  believed, 
even  then  closely  leagued  with  counterfeiters,  yet  he  did  not 
believe  he  would,  or  could,  burst  a burglar-proof  safe. 
Linden  further  promised  the  banker’s  friend  that  he  would 
take  the  matter  in  hand,  go  over  to  Shenandoah,  and  see 
what  McKenna  really  did  intend.  He  “ knew  he  could  worm 
the  secret  out  of  him.”  Here  the  maiter  dropped. 

It  was,  after  all,  quite  fortunate  that  this  information  met 
the  detective  when  it  did,  as  through  it  a plan  was  suggested 
to  his  sick  brain  by  which  he  might  easily  depart  from  Shen- 
andoah without  engendering  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  the 
Mollies  as  to  the  real  object  in  view.  Dressing  himself  in 
his  rougher  attire,  and  packing  a supply  of  better  clothing 
in  his  valise,  ready  for  starting,  McKenna  called  on  Frank 
McAndrew,  in  the  afternoon,  found  a number  of  his  friends 


374  TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAM  AQUA. 


present,  and,  taking  tlie  Bodymaster  aside,  held  a short 
whispered  consultation  with  him. 

“ Faix,  I hev  very  bad  news  this  mornin’,”  said  the  opera- 
tive, assuming  a solemn  air,  greatly  in  contrast  with  his 
usually  radiant  countenance. 

“ Phat  is  it  ? ” 

“ I’ve  got  a letther  from  me  sisther,  an’,  would  ye  belave 
it  ? them  beggarly  Buffalo  detectives  hev  been  to  her  house, 
in  Philadelphia,  watchin’  an’  spyin’  about,  an’  finally  axin’ 
fur  me  an’  me  whereabouts  ! ” 

“ Indade  ? But  I make  sure  your  sister  didn’t  tell  them  ?” 
“But  she  did,  then  ! ” And  McKenna  put  on  an  appear- 
ance of  much  anger.  “She  just  said  to  them  the  last  they 
heard  of  me  I was  at  Shenandoah,  but  didn’t  belave  I vvor 
there  now ! That  was  enough.  Pm  sure,  fur  they’re  as 
sharp  as  the  edge  of  a razor,  an’  I expect  they’ll  quickly  be 
here  afther  me.  Me  sisther  sent  a letther,  warnin’  me,  if 
I had  raison  to  fear  them,  jist  to  make  meself  scarce  ! 
An’  now  I must  go  ! 1 shall  only  tell  you  where  I’m  really 

goin’.  If  ye  want  me  particular  like.  I’ll  be  in  Mahanoy 
City,  or  Pottsville  occasionally,  an’  }'e  may  write  me  at 
these  places — but  holt ! perhaps  ’t would  be  betther  not 
to  send  me  anything  until  ye  hear  from  me  ! As  soon  as 
I’m  settled  a bit  I’ll  let  ye  know.  In  the  meanwhile  kape 
dark  ! If  anybody  inquires  for  the  address,  say  that  ye  don’t 
know  where  I am — but  I tould  ye  I w'or  goin’  to  see  some 
friends  in  Canada — that’ll  put  them  on  a false  trail ! ” 

“ I’ll  mind  all  ye  say,”  answered  McAndrew,  and  he 
pulled  a long  face,  when  he  thought  how  he  would  manage 
the  division  without  his  Secretary’s  assistance. 

Taking  a few  drinks  of  beer  with  the  persons  in  the  room 
— for  McAndrew  kept  a liquor  supply  by  this^time — the  de- 
tective left  the  house,  moved  deliberately  to  his  boarding- 
place,  told  a similar  story  to  Cooney  and  his  family,  put  his 
satchel  in  the  hands  of  an  Irish  lad  that  he  could  trust,  to  be 


TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA.  375 


taken  to  him  at  the  depot,  and  then  ap])eared  as  usual  among, 
the  remainder  of  his  companions.  A more  desi)ondent  detec- 
tive never  was  seen.  He  was  sick  ; his  head  ached,  and  his 
whole  system  needed  rest.  Despite  all,  however,  he  managed 
to  keep  up  a fair  external  demeanor,  joked  with  his  Mollie 
friends,  and  even  sung  a laughter-provoking  ditty.  When  the 
time  for  the  departure  of  the  train  arrived,  he  excused  him- 
self, walked  rapidly  to  the  depot,  found  his  satchel  and  Ids 
messenger,  tipj)ed  the  boy  a quarter  of  a dollar,  seized  the 
baggage,  mounted  the  car,  just  as  it  started  out,  and,  in  a 
few  moments,  was  trundling  over  the  hills  in  the  direction 
of  Tamaqua.  He  fell  asleep — after  half  an  hour’s  uneasi- 
ness, fearing  he  might  be  recognized  by  some  one,  but  dis- 
covered he  was  unknown  to  all  about  him — and  was  in 
sound  slumber  when  he  reached  the  place  of  his  destination. 
“Tamaqua!”  shouted  in  a loud  voice,  by  the  brakeman, 
awoke  him,  and  he  alighted  at  the  depot  as  the  locomotive 
gave  a preparatory  shriek  and  glided,  with  its  serpent-like 
string  of  cars,  along  and  around  the  mountain. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  McKenna  had  tasted  noth- 
ing stronger  than  water,  coffee,  and  Cronk  beer,  throughout 
the  day — in  truth  during  several  days — he  was  so  much  over- 
powered, apparently  with  liquor,  when  he  reached  the  front 
door  of  the  Columbia  House,  the'  same  night,  that  he  fell 
sprawling  across  the  threshold,  his  satchel  flying  in  one  direc- 
tion and  his  hat  in  another.  His  old  acquaintance,  Marks,  the 
landlord,  was  compelled  to  fly  to  his  assistance,  gather  up  his 
scattered  goods  and  chattels,  lead  him  to  a seat,  and  finally 
escort  him  safely  to  a room  and  bed,  the  besotted  guest  all  the 
while  muttering  to  himself  almost  unintelligible  Irish  jargon, 
about  some  “ dawshy-daivshy^  allana  machree.,  all  the  way 
from  auld  Erin,”  that  he  had  been  to  call  upon,  and  the  “ baste- 
ly  calliagJi^  her  mother,  had  forbidden  him  the  house,  bad 
cess  to  her  night-cap  ! ” In  truth,  he  was  maudlin  over  some 
one  that  he  named  his  ’‘’‘colleen  bawn^  wid  the  rucket  head  ! ” 


37^  TAKING  UP  THE  TRAIL  AT  TAMA  QUA. 


Marks  left  him  upstairs,  without  a lamp,  stretched  on  the  bed, 
to  find  the  way  under  the  covers  as  best  he  might. 

No  sooner  had  the  landlord  made  an  exit  than  the  detec- 
tive ceased  his  mutterings,  arose,  ran  lightly  and  soberly  to 
the  entrance,  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  hung  his  hat 
cautiously  over  the  knob,  as  was  his  custom.  Then,  weary 
and  worn,  and  as  sick  as  a man  well  could  be  and  still  re- 
tain his  senses,  he  undressed  himself  and  retired. 

The  few  of  McKenna’s  Tamaqua  acquaintances  who  rec- 
ognized him  as  he  staggered  up  the  street  had  no  desire  to 
trouble  the  man  in  his  evidently  advanced  state  of  intoxica- 
tion, and  either  turned  off  into  by-streets  and  avoided  his 
presence,  or  failed  to  look  in  his  direction.  The  word  was 
passed  about  the  city,  during  the  evening,  that  “ that  wild 
Irishman,  from  Shenandoah,  Jim  McKenna,  was  in  town 
again,  on  a rousing  spree,  and  would  probably  make  things 
uncommon  lively  the  ensuing  day.” 

Meanwhile  the  overtasked  operative  was  sleeping  calmly 
and  peacefully,  and  sweetly  dreaming  that  he  sat  once  more 
in  his  home,  by  the  western  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  heark- 
ening to  the  soft  sound  of  the  waves  as  they  broke  ripplingly 
upon  the  sandy  beach,  whispering  tales  of  other  days,  that  in 
his  waking  hours  were  almost  effaced  from  remembrance. 
The  morning  sun  shone  brightly  when  the  agent  awoke, 
donned  his  miserable  attire,  and  prepared  to  continue  the  simu- 
lated debauch,  which,  he  knew,  would  serve  as  a veil  for  his 
real  object  in  visiting  Tamaqua,"  and  in  the  end,  he  hoped, 
bring  him  in  communication  with  the  murderers  of  Yost. 


The  Saloon  and  Residence  of  James  Carroll. 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


377 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

IN  THE  murderer’s  NEST. 

After  breakfast,  the  detective  accompanied  the  landlord 
to  the  bar  and  swallowed  a powerful  decoction  of  spirits, 
lemon,  and  sugar,  commonly  termed  whisky-punch,  which 
had  the  effect,  in  a little  while,  of  tangling  up  his  wits, 
weakening  his  joints,  and  causing  his  eyes  to  see  everything 
in  couples,  even  to  the  solitary  chimney-tops  of  the  houses 
in  the  city.  At  least,  so  it  appeared.  But  he  retained  the 
sense  of  hearing  sufficiently  unimpaired  to  receive  the  full 
benefit  of  Marks’  reflection,  directed  to  the  hangers-on  of 
the  tavern,  as  he  quit  the  house,  and  of  which  the  agent  was 
the  subject — to  the  effect  that  it  was  ‘‘a  great  pity  he, 
McKenna,  had  no  head  for  resisting  the  stupefying 
influences  of  strong  drink.”  This  forms  the  substance  of 
the  reniark,  but  not  exactly  the  language,  which  was  very 
coarse,  and  intensified  by  sundry  adjectives  and  expletives 
not  mentioned  to  ears  polite. 

One  of  the  first  places  honored  with  the  detective’s  pres- 
ence, after  quitting  the  Columbia  House,  was  Carroll’s, 
where,  as  he  had  been  informed  by  Superintendent  Franklin, 
Yost  and  McCarron  saw  the  strangers,  “from  the  other 
side,”  suspected  of  having  committed  the  murder,  the  morn- 
ing of  the  sixth  of  that  month.  The  saloon  and  residence 
of  James  Carroll — all  included  in  one  building — was  on 
Broad  Street,  no  great  distance  from  the  United  States 
Hotel.  After  calling  on  Patrick  Nolan,  another  liquor- 
seller  with  whom  he  was  familiar,  and  from  whom  he 
obtained  more  liquor,  thus  adding  to  his  appearance  of 
drunkenness,  the  operative  went  direct  to  Carroll’s  Union 


378 


IN  THE  MURDERERS  NEST. 


House.  Fortunately,  the  proprietor  of  the  place  and  his 
wife  were  the  only  occupants  of  the  bar-room.  McKenna 
passed  Cari'oll  the  sign  for  the  quarter,  while  the  proprietor 
stood  in  tlie  doorway,  and  Carroll  answered  correctly,  then 
warmly  greeted  him  as  a brother.  The  detective  introduced 
himself : 

“ I am  James  McKenna,  of  Shenandoah  ! I think  you 
know  me  by  report,  but  not  by  sight ! Have  often  heard  of 
you,  as  Secretary  of  Tamaqua  Division  ! ” 

At  this  juncture,  Mrs.  Carroll,  who  had  been  standing 
nigh,  discreetly  withdrew,  and  Carroll  said:  “Jim  Mc- 
Kenna ? ‘ Heard  of  you  ? ’ I think  I have  ! You  are 

right  welcome  here  ! ” 

“ I’m  jist  afther  having  a bit  of  a spree,  as  ye’ll  doubtless 
observe  wid  half  an  eye,  an  ain’t  nigh  so  steady  as  I wor 
yesterday,  an’  don’t  know  as  much  by  half,  but  1 greet  ye 
kindly  ! Supposin’,  now,  you  fit  yourself  inter  the  space 
behint  the  bar  an’  the  shelves,  an’  pour  me  out  some  gin  ? 
I’m  particularly  partial  to  pure  Holland  ! ” 

“ Of  course  I will,”  replied  Carroll,  and  he  served  some 
liquor,  taking  a stiff  glass  himself. 

“ I can’t  stay  but  a little  time,”  said  McKenna,  seating 
himself  before  the  counter  and  balancing  his  body  unstead- 
il}^,  “fur  I must  get  to  Summit  Hill,  beyant,  this  afternoon, 
fur  to  see  Aleck  Campbell  ! ” 

“ Campbell  is  all  right  ! ” 

“ Yes  ! Campbell  is  one  of  the  thruest  men  in  the 
county,  an’  one  that  I have  taken  a particular  likin’  fur  ! ” 

“ You  know  Aleck  and  I are  brothers-in-law  ? ” 

“ Sure,  an’  I hed  no  sich  idea  ! ” 

“We  are!  An’,  if  you  stay  in  the  neighborhood,  you 
must  spake  of  me  to  him  I It’ll  be  a good  thing  for  you 
to  do  ! ” 

“ I’ll  remember  that,  depend  upon’t  I ” 

“ I suppose  you’ve  read  of  the  Yost  matter  ? ” said  Carroll. 


IN  THE  MURDEREHS  NEST. 


379 


“ Oh,  I saw  somethin’  of  it  in  the  papers,  but  hev  no 
knowledge  of  the  particulars  ! I belave,  however,  that  the 
Dutch  policeman  desarved  all  he  got  !” 

‘‘  It  was  a clane  trick,  an’  well  done  ! ” 

“ Some  of  the  peojde  in  town  are  sayin’  that  McCarron — 
isn’t  that  his  name  ? — did  the  whole  thing  ! ” suggested 
McKenna. 

This  groundless  charge  the  detective  had  constructed, 
from  whole  cloth,  to  draw  Carroll  out,  but  the  saloon 
keeper  did  not  choose  to  say  much.  He  responded  : , 

“ There  was  mighty  little  difference  in  the  two — McCarron 
an’  Yost  ! I think  Yost  was  a trifle  the  manest,  but  not 
much  ! ” 

This  was  considerable  for  Carroll  to  say,  before  a com- 
parative stranger,  even  though  known  as  a good  Mollie,  but 
contained  no  information  ; so,  after  another  glass  of  gin, 
which  the  detective  dexterously  threw  out  at  the  door,  after 
having  changed  the  glasses  and  drank  the  water  placed  on 
the  counter  with  the  liquor,  McKenna  took  his  leave,  per- 
ceptibly the  worse  for  his  morning  drams,  and  boarded  the 
cars  for  Storm  Hill,  leaving  his  satchel  at  the  Columbia 
House. 

Arrived  at  his  destination,  the  officer  continued  his  appear- 
ance of  intoxication,  and,  after  staggering  about  and  entering 
one  or  two  saloons,  rolled  himself  into  Alex.  Campbell’s 
house,  finding  the  proprietor  at  home,  surrounded  by  several 
other  Mollies,  all  of  whom  seemed  engaged  in  doing  nothing 
in  particular,  excepting  the  rapid  consumption  of  the  contents 
of  the  bottles  behind  the  counter.  The  reception  accorded 
McKenna  was  generous,  finding  that  he  had  a few  dollars  to 
expend,  and  Campbell  and  the  rest  being  eager  to  assist  in 
that  operation.  When  they  had  taken  some  rounds,  of 
which  the  detective  was  compelled  to  imbibe  fully  his  share, 
Campbell  put  on  his  coat,  and  signaling  to  McKenna,  the 
- two  started  for  a walk.  They  first  made  a call  at  Pat  Me- 


38o 


IN  THE  MURDERERS  NEST. 


Kenna’s — whose  relative  James  McKenna,  the  operative,  had 
already  made  himself  out  to  be — where  an  unusually  warm 
greeting  awaited  him.  All  of  his  second  cousins  were  happy 
to  resume  a companionship  previously  begun.  This  saloon 
was  kept  by  Pat  McKenna,  the  father  of  the  Old  Mines 
Bodymaster.  Pat,  junior,  was  not  at  home.  'Fhe  whole 
country  swarmed  with  Mollies,  and  Campbell,  Fisher,  and 
Pat  McKenna,  junior,  were  the  leading  spirits  in  the  division, 
Fisher  being  at  that  date  County  Delegate  of  Carbon 
County. 

As  the  agent  considered  the  dangerous  company  he  was 
in,  and  the  extra-hazardous  duty  he  was  performing,  at  the 
very  stronghold  of  the  party  that  he  was  almost  convinced 
had  assassinated  the  Tamaqua  policeman — although  he  had 
not  gained  any  positive  proof  of  their  guilt — his  mind  was  so 
unduly  excited,  brain  so  highly  stimulated  and  alert  that  he 
might  make  no  false  step,  speak  no  suspicious  word,  the 
liquor  he  swallowed  produced  no  more  effect  upon  his  organ- 
ism than  so  much  water.  Under  similar  circumstances  a 
man  will  drink,  from  hour  to  hour,  all  day,  and  never  be 
really  intoxicated  until  the  mental  strain  may  be  removed  by 
the  taking  away  of  the  cause  of  danger,  when  sleep,  or 
stupor,  will  promptly  supervene.  Thus  the  detective  joined 
with  Campbell,  the  McKennas,  and  others,  and  was  not  too 
far  gone  to  swallow  several  drams,  after  the  walk  in  Camp- 
bell’s company  to  the  Summit.  There  Tom  Fisher  resided. 
He  was  also  a tavern-keeper. 

x\s  McParlan — I shall  call  him  by  his  true  surname,  while 
describing  his  associations  with  the  Carbon  County  McKen- 
nas, to  avoid  confusion  of  titles  in  the  reader’s  memory — 
and  Alex.  Campbell  were  tramping  over  the  hills  to  Summit, 
the  agent,  during  a pause  in  the  conversation,  inquired  if 
news  of  the  Bill  Thomas  affair  had  reached  Storm  Hill. 

“ Indade  an’  it  has  ! ” returned  Campbell ; “ an’  I hear 
it  wur  your  men  that  did  it ! ” 


II 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


381 


“ I guess  ye  have  it  piirty  straight,  then,”  said  McParlan, 
not  caring  to  spoil  a story  which  was  working  tangibly  in  his 
interest,  and  which  would  draw  his  companion  on  to  say 
more.  “ But  ye  must  not  let  it  out  on  me  ! I caution  ye, 
there’s  many  inquiries  goin  on  as  to  who  performed  that 
job  ! ” 

“ All  right  ! ” responded  Campbell.  “ Although  the  thing 
ended  in  failure,  it  was  well  meant,  and  you  were  not  to 
blame  ! ” 

“ There’s  lashins  of  betther  men  for  such  a thing  than  one 
can  get  in  Shenandoah  ! ” 

“ 1 belave  ye  ! Your  fellows  couldn’t  do  so  clane  a job  as 
that  down  in  Tamaqua  ! ” 

Here  was  very  delicate  ground.  The  tracer  must  say 
exactly  the  right  thing,  if  he  desired  to  learn  more.  He  was 
very  drunk,  as  Campbell  truly  believed,  yet  managed  to 
reply  : 

“ Be  the  great  piper  ! but  that  wor  a trick  to  be  proud 
of!  Indade,  the  best  thing  of  the  kind  1 ever  heard  about  ! ” 

The  tavern-keeper  looked  proudly  but  searchingly  at  Mc- 
Parlan for  a second,  seemed  satisfied  that  he  was  trust- 
worthy, and  exclaimed  : 

Well,  it  do  gain  our  lads  credit ! I wouldn’t  have  both- 
ered my  head  about  it,  only  it  was  on  a trade,  you  know  ! ” 

As  a natural  consequence  of  the  direction  of  his  profes- 
sional duty,  McParlan  ardently  desired  to  learn  who  was  to 
be  killed  in  exchange  for  the  shooting  of  Yost,  and  the  names 
of  the  men  Campbell  was  just  confessing  he  had  sent  to 
Tamaqua,  but  he  knew  his  business  too  well — inebriated  as 
he  appeared  to  be — to  put  a leading  inquiry  in  that  direc- 
tion. Campbell  then  closed  his  mouth,  possibly  thinking  he 
was  already  more  communicative  than  would  be  ])ronounced 
exactly  prudent,  even  with  a man  and  a brother  Mollie  who 
confessed  to  having  secured  and  furnished  the  parties  for  the 
shooting  of  Win.  M.  Thomas,  and  said  no  more  on  the  subject 


382 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


They  found  Pdsher  very  much  intoxicated  and  unwilling  to 
do  anything  but  drink. 

By  this  time  it  was  night,  and,  although  considerably 
“under  the  influence,”  Campbell  left  the  detective  at 
Fisher’s  and  went  out  to  attend  the  meeting  of  a building 
association,  of  which  he  was  a member. 

McParlan  was  forced  by  the  proprietor  of  the  place  to 
remain  with  Fisher  that  night.  He  would  listen  to  none  of 
his  alleged  reasons  for  returning  to  Campbell’s.  It  was  late 
when  the  operative  retired,  and  in  a few  moments  sleep  and 
weariness  overpowered  him. 

Friday  morning,  after  breakfast  and  a parting  glass  with 
County  Delegate  Fisher,  who  urged  him  soon  to  come  there 
again — certainly  before  leaving  the  vicinity — the  officer  re- 
turned to  Storm  Hill  and  went  directly  to  the  saloon  of  the 
elder  McKenna,  where  he  encountered  Pat  McKenna,  the 
Bodymaster,  who  introduced  the  visitor  to  his  wife,  with 
whom  he  had  not  long  before  been  united.  There  were  a 
number  of  Mollies  about  the  place,  and  they  experienced 
little  trouble  in  inducing  McParlan  to  give  them  some 
songs  and  dances.  Among  the  former,  “ Pat  Dolan,” 
printed  in  an  early  chapter  of  this  work,  was  a great  favorite 
and  several  e?icored.  At  the  second  singing  every  man 
in  the  bar-room  joined  in  the  chorus  : 

“ Wid  my  riggadum-du — an’  to  h — 1 wid  the  crew 
Wouldn’t  help  to  free  our  nation  ; 

When  I look  back,  1 count  ’em  slack, 

Wouldn’t  join  our  combination.” 

In  the  jigs  and  reels  there  were  some  who  took  part,  and 
all  beat  time  to  the  dancer’s  heel-and-toe  refrain.  Both  per- 
formances . gave  great  satisfaction,  and  at  once  seated  Mc- 
Parlan firmly  in  the  good  graces  of  all  the  Irish  people  of 
Storm  Hill. 

Pat  McKenna,  during  the  day,  made  a statement  to  the 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


383 


detective  sustaining  what  Campbell  had  previously  said,  and 
more  might  have  been  gathered  from  the  same  source  had 
not  the  place  been  so  crowded  with  patrons.  The  Body- 
master  was  a little  more  cautious  than  Cam[)bell  had  been, 
and  the  officer  did  not  press  him,  however  badly  he  wanted 
to  have  the  names  of  the  men  who  had  been  sent  to  put 
Yost  out  of  the  way.  That  night  McParlan,  alias  Mc- 
Kenna, remained  at  the  house  of  his  quasi  convenient 
cousin,  Pat  McKenna,  and  enjoyed  a good  night’s  sleep, 
which,  considering  his  arduous  labors  and  long-continued 
excitement  of  mind,  he  greatly  needed. 

Saturday,  the  seventeenth  of  July,  was  a sunny  and  rather 
sultry  summer’s  day.  In  the  forenoon,  McParlan  entered 
the  bar  of  McKenna,  senior^  and  was  there  joined  by  Mike 
IMcKenna,  a younger  son  of  the  tavern-keeper,  and  brother 
of  Pat,  the  Bodymaster.  When  all  had  taken  some  drinks 
together,  iMcParlan  found  a seat  in  the  shade,  not  far  away, 
saying  he  felt  very  sick,  after  such  a prolonged  debauch,  and 
young  Mike  followed.  Protected  by  the  spreading  branches 
of  a tree,  the  pretended  cousin  indulged  his  propensity  for 
romancing — in  tlie  interest  of  the  public — to  its  full  extent, 
rehearsing  with  additions  and  embellishments,  the  absorbing 
particulars  of  the  many  clane  jobs”  in  which  he  had  par- 
ticipated— all  purely  figments  of  the  brain  from  commence- 
ment to  end,  but  given  in  such  minuteness  of  detail,  and 
appearance  of  candor  and  frankness,  that  the  interested 
hearer  took  them  in  without  doubt  or  distrust  of  their  truth- 
fulness. Mike  believed  implicitly  in  Jim  McKenna. 

When  the  searcher  after  knowledge  had  exhausted  his 
store  of  material  and  talked  himself  hoarse,  Mike  thought  it 
his  turn  to  say  something,  and  while  he  had  little  to  urge  for 
himself,  sung  paeans  to  the  prowess  of  his  elder  brother,  Pat 
McKenna,  the  Bodymaster.  He  spun  many  fine  tales  of  no 
particular  value  to  his  single  auditor,  but  to  all  of  which  the 
operative  affected  to  give  earnest  and  undivided  attention. 


384 


IN  THE  MURDERERS  S NEST, 


In  a little  while,  without  in  the  least  appearing  to  do  so, 
McParlan  brought  the  young  fellow  around  to  the  main 
question,  and  he  plainly  stated  that  the  men  who  had  killed 
Yost  were  Hugh  McGehan  and  James  Boyle,  both  then  living 
at  Summit  Hill. 

“Ye  see,  sir,  it  wor  a bargain  wid  the  boys  around  Tama- 
qua,  by  Campbell,  whojist  wants  some  of  them,  wan  of  these 
fine  days,  to  do  for  Jones,  who  is  a sort  of  Sub-Superinten- 
dent at  Old  Mines.  He  is  Charlie  Parrish’s  tool,  an’  but  fur 
this  fellow  Jones  we’d  have  been  at  work  long  ago ! Hugh 
McGehan  is  the  best  man  at  a clane  job  in  all  the  county, 
an  it’s  a pity  fur  him  to  have  to  lave  now,  after  lyin’  idle  so 
long  ! ” 

“ I was  sure  in  my  own  mind,  before,  who  had  done  the 
trick  ! But,  be  jabers,  it  wor  a well-laid  plan,  an’  mighty 
nice  wor  it  carried  out  ! I suppose  Jones  will  be  taken  off 
directly  the  excitement  of  the  last  affair  blows  over  ! ’’ 

McParlan  was  trying  to  learn  facts  by  appearing  to  have 
them  partly  in  possession. 

“ I thought  ye  knew  somethin’  of  the  matther,”  continued 
Mike,  “but  don’t  ye  brathe  divil  a word  to  Pat,  me  big 
brother,  that  I hev  been  chatterin’  here  wid  ye,  fur  he’d  be 
worse  nor  a mad  dog  over  it ! I don’t  know  when  Jones  is 
to  be  shot — an’  possibly  the  thing  has  been  given  over — but 
when  Aleck  Campbell  makes  up  his  mind  to  a thing  it  gener- 
ally has  to  be  done  sooner  or  later,  so  I rather  opine  that  it 
will  come  off  yet  ! ” 

“ I suppose  it  was  Boyle  who  fired  the  shot  that  brought 
Yost  down  ?” 

“You’re  wrong  there,  then,  for  it  wor  McGehan’s  pistol 
what  performed  the  thing  nately  ! But  there’s  brother  Pat, 
an’  I must  be  goin’  ! Don’t  you  say  anythin’  ! ” 

“ Depend  upon  me  ! ” said  McParlan. 

They  entered  the  bar-room,  the  operative  hoping  he  might 
meet  Boyle,  described  to  him  as  a low-sized,  stoutish  man. 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


38s 


with  dark  hair  and  mustache.  But  Boyle  was  not  among 
the  new  visitors.  McParlan  treated  to  the  best,  paid  his 
reckoning,  and,  with  IMike,  went  to  Campbell’s,  where  the 
afternoon  was  spent  at  cards.  Tire  games  ended  when  Pat 
McKenna  came  in,  just  from  his  work  at  the  mine.  This 
person  was  a fine  jihysical  type  of  a man,  six  feet  four  inches 
in  height,  well  built  and  proportioned,  of  fair  coni[)]exion, 
and  ai)parently  twenty-five  years  of  age.  He  was  glad  to 
see  McParlan  again  and  accompanied  him  to  his  father’s 
house,  and  they  had  drinks  at  Pat’s  own  expense,  who  then 
proceeded  home  to  change  his  clotliing.  Mike,  meanwhile, 
took  occasion  once  more  to  caution  the  operative  against 
saying  anything  about  their  talk  of  the  forenoon.  Pie 
was  reassured  when  McParlan  suggested  that  he  was  no 
cruddy  idiot,  and  reiterated  his  promise  to  observe  great  care 
over  his  lips.  “ Trust  me  to  know  better  than  to  blather 
over  what  is  tould  me  in  confidence  ! ” were  his  concluding 
words. 

Subsequently,  Pat  McKenna,  when  given  the  opportunity, 
confirmed  his  brother’s  revelations,  confessing  that  men  from 
his  division  had  shot  Yost,  but  he  would  go  no  further.  The 
names  he  kept  to  himself.  The  detective  slept,  that  night, 
at  the  residence  of  young  Pat  McKenna,  retiring  at  the  early 
hour  of  three  a.m. 

The  following  Sunday,  McParlan,  accompanied  by  Pat 
IMcKenna,  the  Bodymaster,  went  to  Coaldale,  the  residence 
of  James  Roarty,  at  the  head  of  the  division  there,  ostensi- 
bly to  see  what  Jack  Donahue  had  done  about  the  Major 
business.  A man  named  McNellis  went  with  them.  The 
weather  being  very  warm,  all  were  glad  when  they  came  to 
a shady  spot.  Roarty  was  easily  found  and  took  them  to 
the  house  of  another  Mollie,  called  Bonner,  where  they  en- 
joyed refreshments.  When  questioned,  Roarty  said  he  did 
not  know  what  Chris  Donnelly,  of  Mt.  Laffee,  and  Yellow 
Jack  Donahue,  of  Tuscarora,  were  doing  on  or  about  the 

17 


,3^6  IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST, 

fifth,  as  he,  Roarty,  and  Kerrigan  and  two  others — names 
not  given — were  in  I'ainaqiia,  on  their  way  to  Big  Vein, 
when  Carroll  gave  them  a letter,  telling  the  three  to  wait  for 
further  orders.  The  meeting  took  place,  he  heard,  and 
Chris  Donnelly  and  his  armed  men  were  on  the  ground,  but 
Donahue  would  not  permit  them  to  act,  as  he  was  fearful, 
from  the  fact  that  the  Majors  had  quit  working  at  their 
usual  place  ; they  mi^ht  be  in  receipt  of  notification  of  foul 
play  awaiting  them.  “ They  will  get  a pill  yet,”  exclaimed 
Roarty,  “ as  Bully  Bill  did  ! By  the  way,  you  acted  your 
part  well  in  that  same,  but  the  rest  made  asses  of  themselves 
by  not  stoppin’  to  see  their  man’s  toes  turned  up,  before 
'leavin’  the  stable  ! ” 

Roarty  also  alluded  to  the  Tamaqua  “ clane  job,”  but 
disclosed  nothing  more  of  consequence.  That  he  had 
personally  been  interested  in  the  Yost  murder,  at  its  incep- 
tion, whether  he  actually  assisted  in  the  killing  or  not,  the 
detective  was  fully  sensible  before  the  end  of  Mike  Mc- 
Kenna’s recital.  They  returned  to  Pat  McKenna’s  house 
in  season  for  dinner,  finding  the  rooms  swarming  with 
Mollies.  McParlan  counted  over  thirty  active  members 
about  the  place,  all  indulging  in  a boisterous  bacchanal. 
During  the  afternoon  he  was  introduced  as  “Jim  McKenna, 
Secretary  of  Shenandoah  Division,”  by  Alex.  Campbell  and 
Pat  xMcKenna,  Jr.,  to  Hugh  McGehan.  He  shook  the 
blood-stained  murderer’s  hand  without  flinching,  and  imme- 
diately invited  all  hands  to  present  themselves  at  the  bar  at 
his  cost.  McGehan  1 have  partly  described  in  giving  the 
dying  declaration  of  Yost.  It  may  be  added  that  he  was 
of  rather  light  complexion,  had  dark  eyes,  face  clean-shaven 
— at  this  time — short,  or  pug  nose,  was  five  feet  nine  inches 
in  stature,  straight  and  well  built,  weighing  from  one  hundred 
and  sixty  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  pounds,  and  ap- 
parently a smart,  well-spoken  fellow.  He  dressed,  when 
out  of  his  shifting  clothes,  in  very  good  taste.  But  McGehan 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST.  387 

did  not  remain  long  in  the  company,  saying  he  “had  other 
fish  to  fry.” 

Monday,  without  seeing  Boyle,  as  he  knew  he  was  work- 
ing in  the  shaft,  and  not  likely  to  leave  very  soon,  McParlan 
boarded  the  train  for  Tamaqiia,  having  nearly  recovered 
from  what  he  was  pleased  to  denominate  the  “ bad  effects 
of  the  poteen  he  had  taken  the  week  before.”  Arriving  at 
Tamaqiia,  he  entered  Carroll’s  saloon,  with  the  interior  of 
which  he  was  by  that  time  quite  intimate,  and  there  found 
Roarty.  The  people  of  the  house  were  glad  to  see  him 
once  more,  and  Roarty,  hearing  that  McKenna — the  detec- 
tive may  once  more  be  called  by  his  assumed  name — was 
about  to  start  for  Shenandoah,  had  come  to  Carroll’s  to  take 
leave  of  him.  Roarty  was  working  a night  shift  near  that 
place.  The  operative  employed  every  known  means,  with- 
out asking  the  question  direct,  to  make  Roarty  say  who  had 
done  the  Yost  murder,  and  which  men  were  to  act  for.  the 
Tamaqua  Division  in  repaying  the  job ; but  the  miner 
either  did  not  know,  or  would  not  venture  to  say.  , 

The  same  night  McKenna  once  more  appeared  on  his  old 
stamping  ground,  at  Shenandoah,  but  took  care  not  to  be 
seen  by  any  excepting  McAndrew  and  Cooney.  McAndrew 
informed  him  quietly,  that  Linden  had  been  there  to  warn 
the  Secretary,  as  two  strange  men  were  not  long  before  in- 
quiring for  him  at  Pottsville.  The  Mollies  had  determined, 
if  they  visited  Shenandoah — having  no  doubt  but  they  were 
the  Buffalo  detectives — to  give  them  a good  beating  and  the 
advice  to  go  elsewhere  as  quickly  as  possible.  Thus  far  the 
Buffalo  officers  had  not  shown  themselves  in  the  place. 
Remaining  in  Shenandoah,  perdu^  for  a few  days,  recovering 
strength,  and  writing  on  his  reports,  which  had  been  unavoida- 
bly neglected,  McKenna  once  more  bid  his  friends  farewell 
and  returned  to  Tamaqua,  saying  he  had  business  in  Luzerne 
County  with  an  old  acquaintance.  The  last-mentioned  hint 
was  taken  as  foreshadowing  a trip  to  meet  some  counter- 


388 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


feiters  and  replenish  his  purse  with  uncun'ent  funds.  Mc- 
Andrew  pressed  his  hand  warmly,  saying  he  hoped  he’d 
“ kape  out  of  harm’s  way  ! ” 

“I’ll  do  that,  if  1 can,  jist  depend  upon  it  !”  responded 
the  detective.  “ If  the  men  I have  described  to  ye  come 
here,  look  out  for  ’em,  will  ye  ? ” 

“ They’ll  be  attended  to  ! ” was  the  promise  of  McAndrew. 

Had  any  unhappy  stranger  filling  this  description  : “Tall, 
long-nosed,  bald-headed,  squint-eyed,  knock-kneed,  pigeon- 
toed,  hump-backed,  and  cracked-voiced,”  appeared  about  this 
date,  in  Shenandoah,  he  certainly  would  have  needed  pro- 
tection. As  few  persons  on  earth  have  the  misfortune  to 
possess  all  these  unfortunate  characteristics,  it  is  presumable 
that  no  one  was  injured.  In  truth,  McAndrew  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  detective,  when  he  found  out  where  he  was, 
saying,  among  other  things,  that  the  “ Buffalo  detectives  had 
not  yet  arrived,  though  Capt.  Linden  reported  having  seen 
men  looking  like  them  in  Ashland.” 

At  Tamaqua,  the  operative  whispered  in  the  ears  of  his 
Mollie  acquaintances  that  it  seemed  necessary,  from  certain 
reasons — two  of  the  same  being  Buffalo  detectives — that  he 
should  keep  dark  and  well  away  from  Shenandoah,  for  a short 
season.  He  was  free  to  say  he  did  not  relish  being  carried 
back  to  Buffalo  in  irons,  as  he  certainly  would  be  if  the 
officers  found  him.  From  the  same  cause  he  refused  to  ap- 
pear very  often  in  public,  kept  his  room  much  during  the  day 
— to  sleep  and  write,  in  reality — only  coming  out  after  night- 
fall and  joining  the  Mollies  in  Carroll’s  or  at  other  haunts 
and  meeting  places. 

At  the  Columbia  House,  where  he  made  his  temporary 
home,  he  met  a man  named  Miller,  an  old  acquaintance, 
who  told  him  the  city  had  fairly  swarmed  with  detectives, 
representing  all  parts  of  the  country,  dating  from  the  occur- 
rence of  the  Yost  murder.  It  was  thought  that  suspicion 
pointed  to  Kerrigan  and  Duffy  as  actors  in  the  case.  The 


IN  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST. 


389 


operative  kept  his  own  counsel,  saying  he  ‘‘  guessed  all  the 
detectives  in  Pennsylvania  would  not  be  able  to  fix  the  crime 
upon  any  one  in  particular  ! ” 

Sunday,  the  twenty -sixth  of  July — twenty  days  subsequent 
to  the  murder — McKenna  met  Carroll  in  the  evening,  at  his 
house,  and  after  some  drinks,  the  saloon-keeper  took  the 
agent  aside  and  confided  to  him  that,  while  the  latter  was 
absent  at  Storm  Hill,  detectives  had  been  there  to  see  him, 
Carroll — one  claiming  to  be  a mechanic  in  search  of  employ- 
ment, and  saying  Gus  McAftee,  a Scotchman,  working  in  a 
foundry,  was  an  old  friend.  His  name  was  Hendrick.  Car- 
roll  laughed  at  the  gawky  acts  of  the  pretended  workman — • 
but,  as  he  believed,  actual  detective — and  reported  that  he 
would  appear  in  his,  Carroll’s  saloon,  every  day,  treat  all 
hands,  and  never  drink  anything  but  beer,  himself.  The  fact 
that  he  pretended  to  be  “ temperance,”  while  he  gave  others 
stiong  liquor,  excited  the  tavern-keeper’s  suspicions  at  once, 
and,  as  a natural  result,  Hendrick  left,  with  the  hint  that  his 
calling  was  known  and  he  had  been  looking  in  the  wrong 
])lace.  The  same  word  was  taken  to  McAffee.  Beside,  the 
detective  wore  two  or  three  different  kinds  of  hats.  Another 
followed.  He  made  nothing  out  of  Carroll,  but  was  bluntly 
informed  that  he  was  a detective.  A third  fellow  came  and 
took  Kerrigan  to  a saloon  and  got  him  very  drunk,  but  made 
nothing  in  the  way  of  solving  the  mystery. 

“ I can  tell  you,”  concluded  Carroll,  warming  up  and 
gaining  confidence  in  McKenna,  “ the  night  the  Yost  job 
was  to  be  done,  I hafl  loaned  my  pistol  to  a man  in  Tusca- 
rora,  an’  the  boys  brought  but  one  between  them,  an’  I was 
forced  to  give  them  an  old,  single-barrel,  breech-loading  one 
that  I had  ! ” 

“ That  wor  not  much  in  the  way  of  weapons  to  undertake 
such  a thing  wid  !”  suggested  McKenna. 

“True  for  ye  ! But  the  job  was  done  clanely,  as  you’ll 
admit ! By  the  same  token,  they  fetched  my  wife  on  the 


390 


IM  THE  MURDERER'S  NEST, 


Stand  at  the  coroner’s  inquest,  an’  before  lavin’  home  she 
cried,  an’  said  she  had  seen  me  turn  over  the  pistol  to  some 
men,  an’  belaved  I,  Kerrigan,  Roarty,  and  Duffy  knew  all 
about  the  affair.  Fur  all  that,  my  old  woman  made  a fust- 
rate  witness,  an’  let  out  nothing  ! There  wus  somethin’  said 
about  a man  that  was  aslape  on  my  front  steps,  the  night  of 
the  killin’.  He  wasn’t  one  of  ’em  ! That  wor  Jo  McGehan, 
who  lives  at  Coaldale,  an’  he  was  drunk  as  a piper,  at  the 
same  time.  He’s  a white  haired,  heavy  fellow,  is  Jo,  an’  a 
brother-in-law  of  big  John  Gallagher  ! ” 

“ Isn’t  he,  at  the  same  time,  a brother  of  my  friend,  Hugh 
McGehan  ! ” inquired  the  detective,  carelessly. 

“ I don’t  know,”  was  the  response  ; but  Carroll  immediately 
added  : “ When  I saw  the  two  policemen  pass  my  house  to- 
gether— Yost  and  McCarron — I wanted  the  men  not  to  do  the 
job  that  night,  but  they  swore  they  had  been  over  before  for 
the  purpose,  and  they  would  not  be  balked — do  it  they  did  ! ” 

Mrs.  Carroll  had  sworn,  before  the  coroner,  that  she  knew 
Tom  Duffy  had  not  been  one  of  the  murderers,  for  he  slept 
at  her  house,  was  not  absent,  and  could  not  have  gone  out 
without  her  knowledge,  and  that  she  had  never  heard  Duffy 
or  Kerrigan  use  threats  against  Yost. 

The  detective  had  knowledge,  from  the  bullet  which  was  ex- 
tracted from  Yost’s  side,  where  it  had  lodged,  that  the  shooting 
was  done  with  a revolver  carrying  a number  thirty  or  thirty- 
two  cartridge.  It  was  his  duty  to  find  that  particular  pistol. 
To  aid  in  the  search  he  was  furnished  with  a new  revolver, 
from  Philadelphia,  bearing  a thirty-two  cartridge.  This  he 
constantly  carried,  claiming  that  he  had  stolen  it,  in  Tama- 
qua,  and,  on  one  or  two  special  occasions,  exhibiting  the 
weapon  with  part  of  the  loading  abstracted,  remarking  that 
it  was  of  little  use  to  him,  as  he  did  not  dare,  from  the  cir- 
ciuustance  of  its  illegal  ownership,  ask  for  or  purchase  any 
cartridges  to  fit  it.  How  he  employed  the  Smith  and  Wesson 
to  good  effect  may  be  related  hereafter. 


KERRIGAN  ’ J SIS  TER- IN-  LA  IK 


391 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Kerrigan’s  sister-in-law 

The  following  Tuesday,  Carroll  having  accepted  employ- 
ment at  the  new  depot  of  the  Philadelphia  and  Reading 
Company,  McKenna  would  be  unable  to  see  him  until  after 
the  day’s  work  was  done,  and  therefore  turned  his  attention 
elsewhere.  A man  named  McNellis,  with  whom  he  held  some 
talk  at  Summit,  as  before  noticed,  met  him  at  the  Colum- 
bia House  and  in  his  company  the  operative  set  out  to  find 
Kerr^an,  hoping  to  light  upon  the  pistol  with  which  Yost 
had  been  killed.  ’McNellis  said  he  also  wanted  to  see  Ker- 
rigan, but  did  not,  at  the  time,  divulge  the  particular  business 
he  had  in  view.  As  McNellis  was  a Mollie,  and  McKenna 
was  another,  they  were  soon  on  friendly  terms  and  convers- 
ing On  various  subjects  with  considerable  familiarity,  thus 
passing  the  afternoon  together,  in  Carroll’s  saloon  ; and  the 
man  from  Summit  Hill  grew  somewhat  excited,  through  the 
liquor  he  had  imbibed,  while  his  companion,  intoxicated 
early  in  the  day — as  he  had  pretended — was  in  reality  a little 
the  worse  for  his  potations,  but  by  no  means  as  fully  over- 
come as  he  appeared.  They  interchanged  opinions  upon  all 
topics,  excepting  the  weather,  which  was  decidedly  hot,  and 
ultimately  decided  that  they  were  two  of  the  arbiters  of  the 
fate  of  nations — in  other  words  electors — and  the  decision  of 
the  forthcoming  State  campaign  rested  in  their  hands.  The 
policy  of  the  Reading  Railway  and  Coal  and  Iron  Company 
received  due  attention,  and  it  was  remarkable  how  nearly 
their  ideas  regarding  those  great  corporations  tallied.  Mc- 
Nellis reprobated  the  management.  McKenna  abused  Air. 
Gowen  and  the  entire  association,  from  its  lowest  to  its 


392 


KERRIGAN'S  SIS  TER- IN- LA  W. 


higliest  official.  After  exhausting  tlieir  capacity  for  conceal- 
ing spirituous  liquors  about  their  [)ersons,  and  the  supi)ly  of 
subjects  for  argument,  Alclvenna  agreed  to  accomi)any  the 
Summit  Hill  man  to  Kerrigan’s  residence,  known  to  be  a 
little  outside  of  the  borough  limits,  hoi>ing  to  find  the  Eody- 
master  at  home.  On  the  route,  by  way  of  tlie  cemetery, 
they  ])assed  the  house  of  Yost  and  the  fatal  street  lamp,  see- 
ing which  McNellis  said  something  about  a matter  then  being 
negotiated,  which  would  exceed  that  deed  in  interest  to  the 
order,  but,  as  he  made  no  more  definite  allusion  to  the  sub- 
ject, the  agent  refrained  from  comment,  merely  remarking, 
for  about  the  hundredth  time  : Be  jabers,  that  wor  a nate,. 

clane  job  !”  And  to  this  McNellis,  for  the  hundredth  time, 
gave  earnest  assent. 

Kerrigan’s  house  formed  a portion  of  a long  row,  or  block, 
of  tall  buildings,  with  stone  basements  and  wooden  upjier 
stories,  standing^on  a high  embankment,  accessible  over  the 
cut  by  a staircase.  The  little  Tamaqua  Mollie,  with  his  big 
wife  and  three  unruly  children,  occupied  the  basement  and 
floor  above,  while  the  third  story  and  garret  were  uninhab- 
ited. If  Jimmy  Kerrigan  was  physically  a small  fellow, 
measuring  but  two  or  three  inches  above  five  feet  in  his 
stockings,  he  had  a spouse  of  rather  more  than  average  size. 
She  was  also  something  of  a virago,  and,  as  the  neighbors 
said,  drove  the  Bodymaster  with  a tight  rein — while  he  lorded 
it  over  the  Mollies — and  had  so  held  him  in  check  for  many 
years. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  in  1874,  Tamaqua  boasted  no 
division  of  the  order.  In  1875  it  had  one,  to  which  some 
of  the  best  and  worst  of  the  Irish  Catholic  inhabitants  be- 
longed. 

Mrs.  Kerrigan  said,  when  visited  by  McKenna  and  Mc- 
Nellis, that  her  husband  would  be  back  from  his  work,  at 
Col.  Coke’s  Colliery,  in  a short  time,  and  they  could  amuse 
themselves  at  the  front,  while  she  entertained  a neighbor. 


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Who  is  that  lady?'*  asked  Me  I\enfta: 


KERRIGAN^S  SISTER-IN-LAW. 


393 


They  took  the  hint  that,  in  her  enlightened  view,  they  were 
a little  too  far  gone  in  drink  to  be  company  for  respectable 
ladies,  and  she  wished  them  to  remain  at  a distance,  which 
they  did,  and  occupied  themselves  with  the  children,  chick- 
ens, and  pigs,  until  they  saw  Kerrigan,  in  his  shifting  suit, 
coming  along  the  ravine.  Just  as  he  arrived  and  they  joined 
him  at  the  house  corner,  McKenna’s  siglit  was  refreshed  by 
the  appearance,  coming  from  Kerrigan’s  residence,  of  a 
young  woman,  fashionably  dressed,  and  carrying  her  parasol, 
whose  face  and  figure  seemed  wonderfully  familiar  to  him. 
Who  could  she  be  ? Without  pausing  to  look  at  him,  as  she 
came  nigh,  after  once  passing,  the  lady  cast  a shy  and 
modest  glance  in  his  direction  over  her  shoulder.  Surely, 

he  had  seen  that  face  somewhere.  “ Who  is  that  ladv  ? ” 

✓ 

asked  McKenna,  turning  to  Kerrigan,  who  was  speaking 
with  McNellis,  and  pointing  toward  Mrs.  Kerrigan’s  caller. 

“Who  is  she?”  said  the  Bodymaster.  “Why,  sure  an’ 
that’s  me  own  sisther-in-law,  Miss  Mary  Ann  Higgins  ! ” 

It  here  burst  upon  the  senses  of  the  bewildered  operative 
that  it  was  the  same  lovely  girl  who  made  him  feel,  for  a 
time,  so  supremely  ridiculous  at  the  Polish  wedding,  and  the 
soft  touch  of  whose  lips  lingered  so  pleasantly  upon  his 
cheek  many  weeks  afterward. 

“ Then  that  is  your  sister-in-law  ? Bedad,  but  I must  hev 
an  introduction  ! ” 

“ That  ye  surely  shall  hev  ! ” returned  Kerrigan.  “ She’ll 
he  here  to-morrow  avenin’,  wid  her  sisther,  which  is  Mrs. 
Kerrigan,  an’  if  you  makes  it  convaynint  to  drop  in.  I’ll  get 
ye  well  acquainted  in  jist  no  time  at  all  ! ” 

“I’ll  be  here  ! ” answered  McKenna,  who  could  not  keep 
his  eyes  off  the  handsome  Miss  Higgins,  as  long  as  she  was 
within  his  line  of  vision. 

Entering  the  house,  Jimmy  introduced  McNellis  and  Mc- 
Kenna to  his  better  and  greater  half,  and  they  received  her 
apology  for  keeping  them  so  long  outside.  It  was  : 

17* 


394 


KERRIGAN^S  SISTER-IN-LAW. 


“Since  the  Yost  affair,  I have  bin  so  much  worritted  by 
polace  officers  and  their  dirty  spies,  that,  unless  I know  who 
the  new-comers  are,  all  hev  to  ka])e  well  outside  until  the 
man  of  the  house  is  at  home  ! ” 

“ That’s  right ! ” said  Kerrigan. 

“Certainly!”  echoed  the  two  strangers — strangers  to 
her,  but  not  to  her  husband — and  McKenna,  especially, 
cursed  all  detectives  and  policemen  with  such  downright 
earnestness  that  he  completely  won  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Ker- 
rigan. 

“Sure,  Misther  Kerrigan,”  said  McNellis,  “an’  I am  sint 
to  tell  ye  not  to  go  beyant,  to-night — if  ye  know  what  that 
manes,  which  I don’t.  At  any  rate,  the  word  is  you’re  not  to 
come  over  the-night  I ” 

“ I perfectly  understhand  ! ” replied  Kerrigan. 

“Hugh  McGehan  an’  Bill  Mulhall  have  just  got  in  from 
Luzerne  County  ! ” 

“ I’m  glad  to  hear  of  that ! ” remarked  the  Bodymaster. 
“ They  are  the  boys  for  a swate  thing  1 ” 

There  was  little  more  conversation  until  after  supper,  of 
which  all  partook  with  keen  appetite,  when  Kerrigan  put 
on  his  coat,  and  McNellis  reiterated  the  remark  about  “ not 
goin’  over,  be-cause  the  boys  were  back.” 

“ Be  the  way,”  exclaimed  Jimmy.  “ Will  ye  do  me  a 
small  favor?” 

“ Certainly  I will  ! ” answered  McNellis. 

“ I want  ye  to  take  Roarty  over  his  revolver  ! It.  has 
been  here  long  enough  I ” 

Kerrigan  started  to  go  upstairs,  when  McKenna  brought 
out  his  pistol,  at  the  same  time  saying : 

“Just  look  at  this  little  beauty!  Wasn’t  that  a raise  to 
make  for  wan  night’s  worruk  ? ” 

Kerrigan  took  the  repeater,  weighed  it  carefully  in  his 
hand,  worked  the  lock,  pronouncing  it  a splendid  affair,  then 
said : 


KERRIGAN^S  SISTER-IN-LAW,  395 

“ Wait  here  a bit,  an’  I’ll  show  you  the  one  what  kilt 
Yost  ! ” 

The  detective  had  evidently  struck  a vein  that  bid  fair  to 
prove  productive,  but  he  controlled*  his  countenance  to  the 
expression  of  doubt  in  unmistakable  terms,  saying  ; 

“ I guess  not  by  these  lights  ! ” 

“ But  I will  ! ” reiterated  Jimmy.  He  left  the  room, 
ascending  the  dark  staircase,  and  soon  returned  with  a 
black,  rather  old-fashioned  five-shooter,  which  he  transferred 
to  McKenna,  employing  the  words  : 

“ That’s  the  gun  what  brought  down  the  peeler,  Yost ! ” 

All  present  had  taken  in  much  whisky,  after  eating,  and 
McKenna  judged  most  of  Kerrigan’s  share  was  gathering 
in  his  head.  So  delivering  himself,  at  least,  he  was  again 
informed  he  held  the  weapon  that  had  ‘‘  fixed  the  Dutch 
policeman  ! ” . 

The  pistol  carried  a number  thirty-two  cartridge,  and, 
although  he  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Kerrigan’s  alle- 
gation, it  served  his  purpose  to  give  out  disbelief. 

“I  guess  you’re  wanderin’  a bit,  there!”  exclaimed  the 
operative,  “ fur  isn’t  it  currently  reported  that  Barney 
McCar.ron,  Yost’s  own  ])artner,  shot  him,  because  of  a 
racent  quarrel  they’d  had  ? ” 

“ Oh  ! that’s  a swate  enough  story  ! ” was  the  quick  retort 
of  the  Bodymaster,  “ but  you’ll  allow  that  I know  somethin’ 
of  a job  that  I planned  be  myself,  an’  wor  there  on  hand, 
when  it  wor  all  done ! ” . • 

Here  was  a direct  confession  of  one  of  the  murderers, 
which  was  more  than  McKenna  had  expected.  But  at  once 
dropping  his  assumption  of  disbelief,  he  acquiesced  in  the 
statement  that  Kerrigan  really  should  be  well  informed,  and 
begun  to  talk  of  the  pistol,  which  was,  in  the  operative’s 
presence,  turned  over  to  McNellis  for  transportation  to  its 
owner,  James  Roarty,  of  Storm  Hill. 

Subsequently  the  trio  went  to  Carroll’s,  and  found  the 


396 


KERRIGAN  ’ 6-  SIS  TER- IN-  LA  IV. 


saloon-keeper  at  home.  But  McKenna  warned  Kerrigan 
that,  for  his  own  sake,  it  was  best  they  two  should  not  be 
seen  together  on  the  street,  and  Jimmy  walked  alone,  while 
McNellis  and  the  operative  traveled  in  comjjany.  While 
going  toward  town,  McKenna  again  handled  the  old  revol- 
ver, and  found  it  to  be  of  rather  peculiar  construction.  In 
order  to  take  out  the  cylinder  a screw  had  to  be  unloosed 
in  front  of  said  cylinder.  The  weapon  was  fully  loaded, 
and  had  one  rusty  screw,  evidently  not  a part  of  it  when 
leaving  the  manufactory.  Somebody  had  given  it  repair.s. 
But  where,  and  who  ? These  were  questions  to  be  solved 
in  the  future. 

Before  nine  o’clock  McNellis  started  for  Storm  Hill,  carry- 
ing the  tell-tale  pistol  with  him.  Subsequently  Kerrigan  and 
Carroll  engaged  in  games  at  cards.  At  ten  p.m.  the  “ babe 
— a name  given  the  Tamaqua  Bodymaster,  but  not  on  ac- 
count of  his  known  innocence — and  McKenna  visited  a point 
on  the  hill,  near  the  old  cemetery,  and  sat  down  on  a bank 
of  earth  together  to  have  a talk.  Kerrigan  expressed  a feel- 
ing of  great  bitterness  toward  Yost  and  McCarron,  saying  he 
had  once  been  arrested  by  the  policemen  for  taking  the  part 
of  Duffy.  Warming  up  a little,  and  deftly  urged  on  by  the 
detective,  Kerrigan,  in  the  end,  made  a revelation,  substan- 
tially confirming  young  Mike  McKenna’s  statements.  He 
said  he  got  his  men  in  their  positions,  the  night  of  the  fifth, 
then  went  down  town,  where  he  drank  with  the  policeman 
whose  life  was  to  be  taken,  and  saw  that  Duffy  was  well  in 
bed  at  Carroll’s  and  all  was  right  for  the  deed.  He  assured 
McKenna  that  not  a man  in  his  division,  excepting  Carroll, 
knew  anything  about  it.  He  did  not  want  them  informed. 
Although  the  act  was  brought  around  by  the  order,  it  was 
enough  for  him — the  President  of  the  division — to  be  aware 
of  it,  and  when  the  ordinary  members  came  to  be  called  on 
to  do  a job  for  Cam])bell  in  return,  they  would  suspect, 
but  could  swear  to  nothing.  Before  the  shooting,  he  went 


KERRIGAN'S  SIS  IKR-INLA  W. 


397 


tc  the  spot  and  remained  in  the  vicinity,  in  concealment,  un- 
til he  saw  that  his  men  had  put  in  their  work.  In  a few 
minutes  he  retreated,  with  the  rest,  through  the  run  and  over 
the  hill,  and  kept  with  them  until  coming  out  near  Breslin’s, 
at  the  White  J^ear  Tavern.  There  he  left  the  others,  they 
going  to  their  houses  at  Storm  Hill,  where  they  must  have 
arrived  at  about  five  in  the  morning.  The  tale  was  continued 
in  about  this  way  : 

“ I got  home  early,  an’  me  ould  woman  wanted  to  know 
where  I’d  been,  an’  1 told  her  a lie,  an’  so  got  rid  of  it. 
Faith,  I wor  to  go  this  very  night  an’  lay  in  wait,  wid  two 
men,  an’  shoot  a boss,  who  richly  deserves  it,  but,  on  ac- 
count of  the  word  A^IcNellis  brought,  that  McGehan  hev 
come  back,  it  is  put  off  till  another  day  ! It  wouldn’t  do  to 
have  anything  occur,  ye  see,  the  very  time  McGehan  got 
here  ! Let  him  get  to  work  at  the  breast  first  ! 

This  was  further  confirmation  of  Mike  McKenna.  Mc- 
Gehan was  certainly  the  taller  man  of  the  two  who  had  mur- 
dered Yost.  It  was  more  than  probable  that  Boyle  was  the 
other. 

“ You’d  better  belave,”  concluded  the  Bodymaster,  “ I 
took  oft'  me  hoots  an’  moved  aisy  enough,  that  mornin’, 
fur  there’s  a German  family  livin’  next  door,  an’  I wor  afraid 
I’d  be  heard  by  them.  But  I made  up  to  me  house,  begun 
to  scrape  wid  me  nails  at  the  door,  an’  Mrs.  Kerrigan  knew 
what  it  meant,  an’  let  me  softly  in.  I jist  touldher  I’d  been 
drunk  and  stopped  out  all  night,  as  I’ve  done  before,  an’ 
didn’t  want  the  neighbors  to  know  it  ! Jist  as  sure  as  you’re 
over  there,  an’  I’m  over  here.  I’ve  never  brathed  a single 
word  of  it,  only  wonst  to  Jack  Donahue  ! He  said  it  wor  a 
good  job  an’  I was  entitled  to  credit  for  me  skill  ! I tell  ye 
what  ’tis,  McKenna,  ye  want  to  be  very  careful  how  ye  talk 
wid  strangers,  at  the  hotel,  for  the  place  hev  been  fairly 
swarmin’  wid  detectives  these  few  days  past ! Some  of  ’em 
may  hev  stolen  the  sign,  ye  see,  an’  still  be  detectives  ' ’ 


398 


KERRIGAN  SIS  TER- IN  LA  IV. 


“ I know  my  business  ! ” replied  McKenna,  “ an’  devil  a 
word  will  they  get  out  of  me  at  all  ! ” 

At  midnight  the  couple  separated,  my  agent  going  to  his 
hotel  and  Kerrigan  staggering  awkwardly  homeward,  as  full 
of  self-importance  and  spirits  as  he  could  be  and  retain 
power  of  locomotion. 

The  ensuing  day  McKenna  met  and  conferred  with  Lin- 
den, who  was  thus  fully  informed  of  his  progress.  After  this, 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  it  had  become  his  plain  and  oj)en 
duty  to  cultivate  the  intimate  companionship  of  Kerrigan, 
who  was  proving  such  a valuable  informant.  In  order  to 
gain  further  grace  in  the  Bodymaster’s  eyes — also  to  please 
himself,  it  may  well  be  believed — he  resolved  to  give  desper- 
ate siege  to  the  heart  of  the  handsome  sister  of  Mrs.  Kerri- 
gan. To  resolve  was  to  act.  Visiting  the  barber,  he 
caused  his  wig  to  be  properly  dressed,  face  well  cleansed, 
and  beard  and  mustache  nicely  trimmed.  Then  attiring 
himself  in  his  best  clothing — none  too  fine  at  that,  but  much 
better  than  the  garments  he  usually  wore — he  thought  he 
was  ready  to  start  on  the  wooing  expedition.  It  appears 
McKenna  had  soon  learned  to  forget  Pat  Hester’s  daughter. 
But  then,  he  argued,  Miss  Higgins  was  the  earlier  claimant  for 
his  attention.  Had  she  not  commenced  the  courtship  at  the 
Polish  wedding  ? He  was  very  sure  of  that.  His  sympathies 
could  not  have  been  earnestly  enlisted  with  the  other  lady. 
In  Miss  Higgins  he  really  believed  he  might  easily  be  per- 
manently interested.  While  this  was  the  case,  he  felt  forced 
to  confess  he  was  not  so  much  paying  attention  to  Miss  Hig- 
gins, for  Miss  Higgins’  own  sake,  as  for  the  sake  of  her 
wicked  little  brother-in-law,  whose  cruel  works  would  yet 
bring  him  within  prison  walls,  if  not  beneath  the  gallows 
tree. 

Kerrigan’s  little,  round  face  expanded  in  a broad  grin  when 
he  saw  the  particular  pains  McKenna  was  taking  to  make 
himself  genteel,  and  he  put  on  his  best  manner  as  he  pre- 


I 


fCEKRIGAN^S  SISTER-IN-LAW.  399 

sented  the  young  man  to  his  fair  sister-in-law.  Jimmy  was 
somewhat  puzzled  when  Miss  Higgins  blushed  crimson,  as 
she  extended  her  hand,  and  remarked  that  she  “ believed 
she  had  seen  the  gentleman  once  before.” 

“Yes  ! ” explained  McKenna,  the  red  blood  also  mantling 
his  forehead  and  face.  “ I remember  meeting  you  at  a 
party,  some  months  ago  ! ” But  he  added,  for  her  encour- 
agement, in  a low  tone  of  voice  : “ Never  fear.  Miss  ! I’ll 
say  nothing  further  about  it  ! ” 

“Thank  you,”  said  Miss  Higgins,  below  her  breath. 

They  were  very  commonplace  words,  as  the  detective 
afterward  thought,  but  they  sounded  very  musical  to  his  ear, 
that  evening,  coming  from  the  handsome  young  lady’s  lips. 

In  a short  time,  by  using  the  free-and-airy  style  now  so 
natural  to  him,  McKenna  succeeded  in  putting  all  present 
completely  at  their  ease,  and  Miss  Higgins,  as  well  as  her 
sister,  Mrs.  Kerrigan,  begun  to  think  they  had  known  him 
since  they  were  children.  As  for  Jimmy  Kerrigan,  he  was 
already  confidential  with  his  brother  Mollie  from  Shenan- 
doah. But  the  whisky  toddy  soon  put  the  “babe”  out  of 
the  way,  as  he  was  forced  to  admit  that  he  had  taken  several 
glasses  before  reaching  home,  and  the  liquor  he  drank  with 
the  family  disagreed  with  it,  getting  up  a reaction  in  his  sys- 
tem making  a recumbent  position  indispensable.  Mrs.  Ker- 
rigan marched  her  liege  lord  off  to  Sed.  It  was  a very  pleas- 
ant evening  that  the  operative  enjoyed  with  Mrs.  Kerrigan 
and  her  unmarried  sister,  after  the  exodus  of  the  noisy  fellow 
claiming  the  house  as  his  home,  and  when  he  bade  the 
ladies  good  night,  at  a late  hour,  they  united  in  cordial  re- 
quests that  he  should  visit  them  often.  Miss  Higgins, 
especially,  was  pressing,  in  her  modest  way,  to  have  the 
caller  not  forget  their  humble  place  of  residence. 

“ Sure,  an’  I will  not  ! ” said  McKenna,  “ an’,  all  in  due 
sayson,  I hope  I may  be  able  to  take  revinge  on  the  young 
lady  that  so  surprised  me  at  the  Polish  wedding ! ” 


400 


KERRIGAN' S SIS  TER- IN- LA  W. 


^ This  last  remark  in  a whisper,  at  the  door. 

“ Hush  ! ” vvarningly  exclaimed  the  lady,  her  face  the 
color  of  a blooming  rose.  But  Mrs.  Kerrigan  saw  nothing, 
heard  nothing. 

“ I’m  as  silent  as  the  churchyard  I’m  goin’  to  walk 
beside,”  said  the  operative,  with  a roguish  smile,  as  he  took 
his  final  leave. 

“ She’s  a very  fine  girl,”  soliloquized  the  officer,  while 
walking  to  the  Columbia  House.  “ What  a pity  she  is  of 
such  a family  ! And  to  think  that  I must  get  her  brother-in- 
law  hanged  ! Oh,  1 never  can  hope  to  have  ‘ Miss  Higgins’ 
transformed  into  ‘Mrs.  McParlan ! ’ Brother-in-law  to  a 
murderer  ! No  ! Never  ! ” 

Despite  this  decision  the  dreams  of  the  detective,  that 
night,  were  not  fated  to  be  entirely  deserted  by  the  girl 
by  whom  he  had  been  victimized  at  the  Krozenski  nup- 
tials. 

It  was  soon  whispered  over  Tamaqua  by  talkative  spin- 
sters and  gossips  of  more  advanced  experience,  that  the  wild 
fellow,  Jim  McKenna,  had  fallen  desperately  in  love  with 
Mary  Ann  Higgins,  Kerrigan’s  wife’s  sister,  was  quitting  the 
drink,  fast  sobering  down,  and,  if  his  wooing  sped  success- 
fullv,  bade  fair  soon  to  marry  the  object  of  his  passion,  settle 
in  Tamaqua,  and  make  an  honorable  and  respectable  mem- 
ber of  society.  Certainly  the  subjects  of  these  conversations 
were  frequently  together,  and  just  as  surely  McKenna  was 
more  regularly  seen  dressed  in  his  best,  a lady  on  his  arm, 
of  a Sabbath  day,  attending  church,  than  ever  before,  and  it 
was  evident  that,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  it  would  not 
be  his  fault  if  the  New  Year  did  not  look  upon  him  a full- 
hedged  Benedict.  As  for  Miss  Higgins,  she  kept  her  own 
cCTunsel.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  her  heart  really  re- 
mained untouched  and  she  accepted  the  attentions  of  Mc- 
Kenna, as  any  virtuous  girl  in  her  station  would  have  done, 
more  because  the  man  was  popular  and  generally  pleasing, 


KERRIGAN^ S SISTER-IN- LA  IV. 


401 


than  from  the  reason  of  having  placed  her  affections  upon 

him. 

It  was  at  or  about  this  time  that  McKenna  received  the 
following  letter  : 

Shenandoah,  July  30,  1875. 

James  McKenna  : 

Dear  Sir  ; — Them  persons  who  you  heard  was  around  was  Inquiring 
about  you  in  Pottsville  hall  (Pennsylvania  Plall  probably)  Captain  Jack 
i (Mr.  Linden)  was  telling  me,  a few  nights  ago. 

[ I remain,  as  ever. 

Yours,  in  P'riendship, 

Frank  McAndrew. 

P. S.  They  were  asking  Captain  Jack  if  he  knew  any  person  of  the 
name,  and  they  told  your  weight  and  height  and  he  said  he  knew  noth- 

iing  of  you. 

F.  Mc^V. 

This  work  on  the  part  of  the  detectives  secured  the 
: enduring  friendship  of  the  Shenandoah  Mollies,  and  con- 
firmed Muff  Lawler  in  his  belief  that  Linden  could  be 
>:  implicitly  trusted.  “ If  he  would  not  give  McKenna  away 
! to  the  officers  from  Buffalo,”  said  I.awler,  “why  should  we, 
||  who  are  also  his  friends,  fear  to  confide  in  him  ? ” Muff 
was  right,  as  far  as  tangible  results  were  concerned,  but  as 
' the  reader  will  easily  see,  his  arguments  rested  upon  unsta- 
I ble  grounds.  I^inden  w^as  seeking,  with  McKenna,  to  obtain 
' the  good-will  of  the  Mollies.  This  letter  shows  that  their 
li  mutual  labors  were  successful. 

II  It  was  now  McKenna’s  purpose  to  cause  Kerrigan  to 
ij  repeat  his  confessions  before  Capt.  Linden,  or  some  other 
person  who  could  be  safely  used  as  a witness,  and  a number 
of  attempts  were  made  to  agree  upon  places  of  conference 
where  this  could  be  gone  through  with,  but  the  recklessness* 
of  Kerrigan,  and  his  carelessness  in  keeping  prearranged 
appointments,  caused  the  efforts  to  come  to  naught.  He 
met  the  detective,  but  not  at  the  hour  fixed,  and  sometimes  at 


402 


SLOWLY  GAINING  GROUND, 


a different  locality.  Linden  was  thus  greatly  inconvenienced 
and  left  to  lie  on  the  ground,  behind  a protecting  fence  or 
wall,  for  many  weary  hours,  without  seeing  Kerrigan  or 
taking  down  his  expected  account  of  the  Yost  murder.  But 
on  these  occasions  Kerrigan  freely  opened  his  heart  to  Mc- 
Kenna, giving  him  the  most  explicit  delineation  of  about 
every  fact  connected  with  the  crime,  excepting  the  names 
of  the  murderers.  These  would  come  all  in  good  time. 


--  

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

SLOWLY  GAINING  GROUND. 

At  the  close  of  the  month  McKenna  met  Yellow  Jack 
Donahue,  who  gave  out  that  he  had  nearly  given  up  the 
Major  job,  for  the  present,  and  feared  his  vengeance  might 
fail  of  accomplishment,  from  treachery,  some  person  evi- 
dently having  warned  the  Majors,  as  they  no  longer  worked 
in  their  accustomed  places  and  were  shy  of  going  abroad 
alone  at  night.  He  suspected  John  Slattery,  who  knew  of 
the  preparations  made  to  kill  Thomas  and  the  Majors,  as 
the  one  giving  them  notice.  In  any  event,  he  would  not 
wholly  throw  it  up,  only  hold  the  matter  back  until  a favora- 
ble opportunity  occurred.  Donahue  was  by  no  riieans  com- 
plimentary of  the  men  composing  his  division,  saying  there 
was  not  one  in  the  number  to  be  trusted  with  an  important 
transaction.  He  expressed  himself  freely  regarding  the 
affair  Alex.  Campbell  was  trying  to  accomplish,  wisely  con- 
cluding that  he  was  quite  foolhardy  about  it,  too  short  a 
time  having  elapsed  since  the  Tamaqua  murder.  The 
breeze  that  stroke  had  started  should  be  allowed  to  subside 
before  entering  upon  any  fresh  undertaking. 


SLOWLY  GAINING  GROUND. 


403 


During  this  interview,  the  operative  received  from  Dona- 
hue the  fact,  confidentially  communicated,  that  it  was 
himself,  the  redoubtable  “Yellow  Jack,”  who  shot  Morgan 
Powell,  the  circumstances  attending  which  assassination  have 
already  been  related  in  these  pages.  The  deed  was  done  at 
Summit  Hill,  December  the  second,  1871,  and  in  it  Donahue 
was  assisted  by  two  men,  whose  names  he  did  not  give.  He 
said  their  escape,  after  the  shooting,  was  very  easy,  as  they 
did  not  go  ten  yards  from  the  spot  where  Powell  dropped, 
until  the  excitement  cooled  down,  when,  in  the  darkness, 
they  quietly  departed  for  the  bush,  soon  reaching  their  liomes 
in  safety.  The  detective  made  mental  note  of  this  disclos- 
ure, his  subsequently  written  report  throwing  the  first  true 
flood  of  light  upon  a dark  crime,  which  had,  for  four  years, 
baffled  the  best  efforts  of  the  officers  of  justice.  He  wrote 
all  about  the  conversation  to  the  Agency,  that  night.  It 
i was  not  politic  to  press  Donahue  for  a description  of  his 
accomplices,  but  from  points  he  had  already  gathered,  Mc- 
Parlan  suspected  Campbell  and  the  McKennas  were  at 
least  interested.  Donahue  made  himself  very  friendly  with 
the  agent,  praised  him  highly  for  the  part  he  had  taken,  as 
he  supposed,  in  the  Thomas  matter  ; invited  him  to  his 
house,  and,  as  he  took  his  departure,  swore  that  “those 
Majors  should  yet  come  to  their  graves,  even  though  he 
had  to  draw  a bead  on  them,  bowldly,  in  open  daylight ! ” 

In  Carroll’s  saloon,  the  same  night,  my  representative 
chanced  upon  an  old  friend,  Dan  Kelly,  known  to  be  Manus 
Kull,  alias  “ Kelly  the  Bum,”  a hard  case  then  as  now,  and 
open  for  almost  anything  outrageous.  About  every  crime 
in  the  great  catalogue  had  been  charged  upon  him,  but  he 
was  not  understood  as  possessing  a noticeably  bad  character 
; previous  to  attaching  himself  to  the  Mollie  organization.  In 
the  same  company  at  Carroll’s  were  James,  or  Friday 
O’Donnell,  and  Kerrigan.  The  latter  took  early  occasion  to 
I tell  McKenna  he  should  “keep  quiet  about  the  Tamaqua 


404 


SL  0 WL  Y GAINING  GR O UND. 


matter,  as  these  fellows  were  too  soft  to  intrust  with  anything 
connected  with  so  serious  a subject.”  He  promised  to  obey, 
and  upon  that  topic  consequently  remained  silent.  The 
men  were  engaged  in  a wild  debauch,  and  all  more  or  less 
mellow,  but  they  took  good  care  to  have  every  outsider 
away  from  the  room  before  the  Summit  affair  came  up  for 
discussion.  It  was  the  intention  to  put  some  boss  off  his 
pins,  and  Kerrigan  volunteered  to  walk  to  Mt.  I.affee  and 
find  some  men  to  accompany  a detail  of  his  own,  so  that  the 
Job  might  be  concluded  about  the  middle  of  the  week.  Who 
the  party  was  the  agent  did  not  then  learn. 

While  escorting  Kerrigan  to  his  home,  late  that  night, 
McKenna  noticed  he  was  being  clumsily  shadowed  by  Barney 
McCarron,  who,  although  very  drunk  himself,  acted  as  though 
he  had  a half-formed  idea  in  his  thick  pate  that  Kerrigan  and 
McKenna  were  hatching  some  mischief,  and  therefore  sought 
to  throw  himself  in  their  way,  to  learn  the  particular  business 
they  were  engaged  upon.  But  his  amateur  detective  work 
was  done  so  awkwardly  that  Kerrigan  quickly  saw  through 
it.  Then  the  two  Mollies  made  up  a game  to  put  the  police- 
man to  more  trouble,  and  they  led  him  a wild-goose  chase. 
Late  at  night,  McKenna,  still  blunderingly  traced  by  Mc- 
Carron, came  to  a halt  at  the  Columbia  House.  He  found 
the  doors  all  fastened  and  no  porter  up  to  admit  him.  Just 
then  McCarron  came  along. 

“What  are  you  trying  to  do?”  asked  the  hiccoughing  and 
worn-out  policeman, 

“Bedad,  but  I’m  sakin’  for  an  admission  to  me  boardin’- 
house  ! ” responded  McKenna. 

“Yes,”  put  in  Kerrigan,  “he’s  shut  out  enthirely,  an’  how 
he’ll  get  within,  is  the  question  ! It  wor  different  wid  me, 
when  I wor  in  the  lock-up  ! I wanted  a way  out  ! He 
wants  a way  in  ! ” 

McCarron  laughed,  and  suggested  that  McKenna  might 
try  a window. 


SLOWLY  GAINLXG  GROUND. 


405 


“ Perhaps  some  of  them  may  be  unfastened  ! ” 

“ No  ! I prefer  you’d  do  that  job  for  me  ! ” answered  the 
agent,  staggering  and  leaning  against  the  side  of  the  house. 
“ You  know  you  are  an  officer,  an’  can  safely  go  in  ! If  I wor 
to  do  so,  perhaps  you’d  jist  arrest  an’  take  me  to  jail  for  an 
attempted  burglary  ! ” 

Notwithstanding  McCarron’s  repeated  assurances  that  he 
would  do  no  such  thing,  McKenna  refused  to  touch  a single 
shutter,  or  sash,  and  finally  prevailed  upon  the  policeman  to 
seek  entrance  to  his  hotel  through  a casement  and  then 
unlock  the  front  door  for  him.  Kerrigan  and  the  detective 
enjoyed  the  fun,  beholding  the  unsteady  efforts  the  drunken 
watchman  made,  raising  the  window  and  then  ungracefully 
climbing  into  the  house.  But  they  soon  gained  entrance  and 
went  upstairs,  after  lighting  a candle  at  the  office  counter, 
McCarron  still  following,  Kerrigan  noiselessly  bringing  up 
I the  rear.  Once  in  McKenna’s  apartment,  the  policeman 
I was  offered  a chair  and  Kerrigan  told  that  he  could  go.  The 
Bodymaster  obeyed.  And  then  McCarron  set  about  the  task 
! of  extracting  information  from  McKenna  regarding  the  Yost 
, murder.  The  detective  was  acting  the  part  of  a drunken 
man  to  perfection,  while  McCarron  was  really  much  intoxi- 
cated, but  trying  to  appear  very  wise  and  sober.  Taking  the 
' flaring  candle  in  his  hand,  he  got  down  on  his  knees  and 
endeavored,  with  an  owlish  assumption  of  superior  intelli- 
gence, quite  ridiculous  in  him  at  any  time,  to  explain  to  his 
only  auditor  precisely  how  and  where  certain  acts  had  been 
done,  the  night  of  the  murder,  _ illustrating  his  meaning  by 
pointing  out  with  uncertain  finger,  on  the  irregular  figures 
![  of  the  carpet,  an  imaginary  map  of  the  locality  and  the  pro- 
ceedings. It  was  as  much  as  the  operative  could  possibly 
j do  to  refrain  from  laughing  in  McCarron’s  face,  to  see  the 
I style  in  which  he  performed  this  part  of  his  unaccustomed 
. work.  Meanwhile  McCarron  was  trying  his  best  to  gain 
intelligence  from  his  companion.  He  succeeded  indiffer- 


4o6 


SLOWLY  GAINING  GROUND. 


ently,  as  McKenna  was,  to  all  appearances,  as  ignorant  as 
the  man  in  the  moon  of  everything  connected  with  the  Mol- 
lies. When  the  policeman  had  nearly  spoiled  the  bedroom 
carpet  with  the  melted  tallow  constantly  dropping  from  his 
migratory  candle,  and  exhausted  himself  in  making  drawings 
of  the  Yost  matter,  giving  the  position  he  occupied,  and  the 
places  in  which  the  murderers  stood,  over  and  over  again, 
'^McKenna  ]Hit  a stop  to  the  proceedings  by  politely -asking 
the  fellow  to  leave,  as  he  wanted  to  obtain  a little  sleep 
before  morning. 

Seeing  that  he  could  gain  nothing  by  his  extraordinary 
efforts  at  “ roping,”  the  drunken  guardian  of  the  peace,  after 
a while,  took  the  hint  and  went  stumbling  down  the  stair- 
case, muttering  to  himself  about  the  “ ignorance  of  some 
people.”  He  had  been  unable  to  impose  upon  McKenna, 
and  flattered  himself  that  it  was  because  of  that  person’s 
stupidity.  There  was  stupidity  in  the  business,  but  it  was 
in  McCarron,  not  with  McKenna. 

The  Sunday  following,  after  visiting  church,  in  the  fore- 
noon, with  Miss  Higgins,  and  subsequently  taking  her  a 
pleasant  evening’s  walk,  the  agent  met  Kerrigan  -again  at 
Carroll’s,  and  the  pair  went  to  the  scene  of  the  Yost  murder 
together,  the  Bodymaster  designating  the  vicinities  which 
McCarron,  on  a previous  occasion,  had  tried  so  hard  to  ex- 
plain to  the  operative.  Kerrigan  marked  the  very  spot  on 
which  McGehan  and  Boyle  had  stood,  under  the  shadow  of 
the  trees,  where  he  was  waiting,  armed  only  with  a stone,  to 
put  in  work  if  found  necessary,  then  to  lead  the  men  away 
after  their  job  was  done,  and  gave  him  other  information  of 
great  importance.  He  said  that  he,  Kerrigan,  was  wearing 
• the  same  pantaloons  he  had  on  the  night  of  the  murder, 
only  they  were  industriously  patched  by  his  wife.  He  rup- 
tured them  badly,  running  in  the  bush,  and,  the  next  morn- 
ing, was  asked  by  iVfrs.  Kerrigan  how  the  holes  were  made. 
She  was  satisfied  when  he  told  her  he  fell  down  the  bank 
by  the  house  and  nearly  killed  himself. 


SLOWLY  GAIN/ATG  GROUND. 


407 


A little  later,  Kerrigan  took  a seat,  near  the  Odd  Fellows’ 
Cemetery,  on  some  rocks,  and  proceeded  to  dwell  upon  his 
own  fortunes  and  those  of  some  of  his  friends.  The  “babe,” 
according  to  his  own  story,  was  born  in  Schuylkill  County ; 
had  received  no  education,  no  schooling,  in  fact,  since  he 
was  an  infant ; had  been  successively  a coal-picker,  a miner, 
and,  during  the  late  war,  a soldier,  in  the  cavalry  branch  of 
the  service,  under  gallant  Phil  Sheridan.  As  to  McGehan, 
he  said  he  hailed  from  Donegal,  Ireland,  but  had  been 
partly  reared  in  America.  Alex.  Campbell,  reported  the 
same  historian,  was  married,  and  had  a family,  his  wife  being 
also  a native  of  Donegal. 

It  was  well  toward  morning  when  the  two  Mollies  sepa- 
rated. 

A meeting  of  the  agent  and  Alex.  Campbell,  transpiring  at 
Carroll’s  saloon,  the  fourth  day  of  August,  was  productive  of  in- 
teresting results.  The  Summit  Hill  tavern-keeper  and  former 
Bodymaster  zealously  recommended  M cGehan  as  one  of  the 
best  men  in  the  country,  and  was  happy  to  see  that  Hugh 
and  Mulhall  had  found  work  at  Tuscarora.  He  said, 
boastingly,  that  as  soon  as  he  could  go  to  Mauch  Chunk,  for 
the  necessary  license,  he  proposed  to  set  McGehan  up  in  a 
saloon  of  his  own,  McKenna,  Kerrigan,  and  Carroll  being 
warmly  pressed  to  honor  the  opening  with  their  presence, 
which  all  promised.  Then,  stepping  aside  a little,  Camp- 
bell let  out  to  the  detective  more  than  he  had  ever  before 
said  : 

“ It  was  McGehan,  himself,  who  fired  the  shot  that  killed 
Yost ! Boyle  was  along,  it  is  true,  but  McGehan’s  shot 
finished  the  business  and  the  other  did, not  have  to  discharge 
his  pistol  at  all ! ” 

This  remark,  coupled  with  the  facts  he  had  already  ob- 
tained from  Mike  McKenna,  Kerrigan,  and  Carroll,  firmly 
convinced  the  inquirer  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  the 
matter.  The  murderers  of  Yost  were  found.  But  where  was 


4o8 


SLOWLY  GAINING  GROUND. 


the  testimony  with  wliich  to  convict  them,  in  the  face  of  the 
omnipresent  alibi?  He  did  not  despair  of  even  ferreting  out 
that,  before  finishing  the  good  work.  It  was  Camj^bell  who 
had  sent  McNellis  to  Tamaqua,  notifying  Kerrigan  he  should 
stay  at  home  the  night  fixed  for  the  killing  of  some  unsusi)ect- 
ing  boss,  as  McGehan  and  Mulhall  had  that  day  chanced  to 
return  to  Storm  Hill, 

Subsequent  to  the  departure  of  Campbell  for  his  home, 
McKenna  took  the  saloon-keeper  away  from  the  house  a 
little  and  said  : 

“Jim  Carroll,  you  thought  I didn’t  know  who  it  vvor  that 
knocked  Yost  off  his  two  feet  ! ” 

“ I knew  d d well  that  you  did  know  ! ” was  Carroll’s 

laconic  return. 

“ Well,  I don’t  blame  ye  at  all  for  kapin’  a tight  rein  on 
yer  tongue  ! I’d  ha’  done  the  same,  meself,  had  1 been  in 
your  pair  o’  boots  ! ” 

“ That’s  all  right ! ” continued  Carroll.  “ It  was  a mighty 
good  thing,  an’  McGehan  is  the  fellow  for  a clane  job  ! 
Mulhall  was  in  for  it,  with  him,  but  some  objected  because 
he  was  a man  of  family,  so  Boyle  took  his  place.  I wanted 
to  have  it  put  off,  when  I saw  McCarron  and  Yost  come 
past  here,  in  company,  an’  told  the  men  to  seek  a better 
chance,  another  day,  but  IMcGehan  said  he’d  been  over  here 
three  times  to  do  it,  and  he  would  not  brook  further  delay. 
So  they  went  and  did  it  ! ” 

“ An’  did  it  nately  and  aisily,  too  ?”  suggested  McKenna. 

Mrs.  Carroll  had  her  suspicions  aroused,  during  the  visit, 
that  McKenna  was  a Mollie,  and  so  informed  her  husband. 
She  thought  he  could  not  be  so  intimate  with  Jack  Donahue, 
talking  by  the  hour  with  him  in  the  back  yard,  and  with 
Jimmy  Kerrigan,  and  remain  only  an  outsider.  She  also  ac- 
cused Carroll  of  forming  one  of  the  order,  bu.t  he  laughed, 
and  said  : “ You  know  better  ! Wdiat’s  the  use  of  charging 

such  a thing  on  me  ? ” Yet  he  was  Secretary  of  the  division 


SLOWLY  GAINING  GR 0 UND. 


409 


at  the  very  time.  This  answer  did  not  change  Mrs.  Carroll’s 
mind.  But  she  was  too  discreet  and  true  a wife  to  disclose 
her  thoughts  on  the  subject  to  every  one. 

The  same  night  Kerrigan  was  more  than  usually  communi- 
cative, and  related  to  the  agent  all  about  a trick  he  and  Car- 
roll  were  to  play,  in  stealing  a lot  of  hams,  and  a new  copper 
boiler,  out  of  the  Columbia  House  cellar.  The  operative 
made  up  his  mind  the  landlord  should  not  be  robbed,  but 
said  nothing.  The  attempt  was  subsequently  made  and 
some  things  carried  off,  but  they  had  to  be  returned. 

While  the  Bodymaster  was  in  a talking  humor,  McKenna 
carelessly  .inquired  : 

“ Now  what  about  that  Summit  job  ? ” 

“Oh,  that’s  put  off  until  the  latter  part  of  the  month  !” 
And  Kerrigan  sighed,  and  seemed  to  greatly  regret  the  delay. 
“Is  it  Zehner,  or  Jones,  this  time  ? ” 

“Jones,  av  coorse  ! ” was  the  response.  “An’  it  has  to 
be  done  by  daylight  too,  as  he  is  a workin’  boss  ! I am  not 
sure,  yet,  where  he  will  be  caught ! ’*’ 

The  sending  of  this  report  to  Mr.  Franklin,  the  detective 
very  well  knew,  would  cause  the  party  threatened  to  receive 
notification  of  the  danger  he  was  in.  The  important  missive 
was  written  and  mailed  before  he  slept. 

Thursday,  the  fifth,  occurred  the  funeral  of  John  Dowling, 
one  of  the  oldest  members  of  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hiber- 
nians, otherwise  the  Mollie  Maguires,  in  the  State,  and,  as 
many  were  to  come  to  Tamaqua  from  Shenandoah,  Mc- 
Kenna suffered  a convenient  return  of  rheumatism,  so  he  said, 
and  kept  his  room,  in  consequence,  all  the  day.  None  of 
his  old  companions  sought  him  out,  excepting  Frank  Mc- 
Andrew,  and  he  visited  the  Columbia  House,  was  shown  to 
his  friend’s  apartment,  and  had  a long  visit  with  him.  The 
Shenandoah  Bodymaster  had  heard  that  McKenna  was  suspec- 
ted of  complicity  with  the  Yost  murder,  and  soberly  warned 
him  to  have  a care  for  himself,  which  advice  the  agent  re- 
18 


410 


SLOWLY  GAIISfLNG  GROUND. 


ceived  with  a hearty  laugh,  saying,  as  he  was  innocent,  he 
“didn’t  care  a snap  of  his  hngers  what  people  thought!” 
He  expressed  himself  as  heartily  tired  of  hiding  so  closely 
from  the  Buffalo  detectives,  and,  but  for  a second  letter, 
which  he  had  just  received  froih  his  sister,  saying  the  men 
were  still  hanging  around  her  house,  he  would  emerge  from 
his  cover,  return  to  Shenandoah  at  once,  and  resume  his  old 
occupations  and  amusements.  As  it  was,  he  hoped  soon  to 
hear  that  the  New  York  officials  were  starting  off  for  Canada, 
on  a false  scent,  when  he  would  certainly  hasten  homeward. 

“ Ye  ca.n’t  be  too  careful,  me  boy  ! ” was  the  admonition 
with  which  McAndrew  separated  from  his  Secretavy. 

It  was  at  the  saloon  and  beer  garden  of  Conrad  Iffland, 
on  Broad  Street,  Tamaqua,  that  Linden  and  McKenna  now 
met  to  talk  over  the  operation  and  arrange  all  their  move- 
ments. Mrs.  Iffland  was  a good-natured  German  lady,  gen- 
erously patronized  by  her  countrymen  and  other  lovers  of 
lager-beer,  and  she  gave  no  particular  attention  to  the  detec- 
tives— hearing  from  her  husband  that  landen  was  all  cor- 
rect— as  long  as  they  paid  for  their  refreshments.  When 
McKenna  appeared  on  the  streets  with  a peculiarly  ugly 
hat,  or  made  a particular  gesture  with  his  hand.  Linden 
knew  they  were  to  meet  at  Iffland’s  immediately.  A simi- 
lar sign  with  the  hand  of  Linden  taught  the  same  lesson  to 
McKenna.  On  the  seventeenth  of  August,  1875, 
men  held  a very  important  conversation  at  Mrs.  Iffland’s, 
and  made  preparations,  subsequently  carried  out,  to  meet 
Campbell,  McGehan,  Boyle,  and  others,  if  possible,  at 
Mauch  Chunk,  where  Campbell  was  to  go  to  make  applica- 
tion for  McGehan’ s license.  Linden  then  assumed  the  role 
of  the  toper  to  perfection,  and  was  finally  invited  by  Camp- 
bell to  join  the  company,  slightly  opposed  by  McKenna, 
who  claimed  Linden  was  only  a stranger  who  had  accosted 
him  near  his  hotel,  inquiring  the  way  to  the  Mansion  House. 
In  this  manner  Linden  learned  the  faces  of  the  men  and 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


41 1 

something  of  their  habits  and  conversation.  Conrad  Iffland 
had  no  knowledge  of  McKenna’s  business,  nor  had  his 
spouse,  but  both  believed  him  to  be  the  wickedest  Mollie. 
Maguire  in  Schuylkill  County.  As  long  as  he  was  in  Lin- 
den’s society  they  tolerated  him.  Alone,  or  with  Kerrigan, 
they  would  have  turned  him  promptly  away  from  their  door. 
Knowing  this,  the  operative  never  attempted  an  entrance, 
excepting  he  found  that  Linden  was  in  the  neighborhood. 

It  was  not  until  the  eighth  of  August,  that  McKenna 
made  his  reappearance  in  Shenandoah,  and  then  remained 
but  a short  time.  He  ^vas  warmly  greeted  by  his  old-time 
associates,  Morris,  Hurley,  and  McAndrew,  who  said  they 
had  heard  that  the  agent  and  the  rest  were  to  be  arraigned 
for  the  attack  upon  Wm.  M.  Thomas.  At  least  they  feared 
preparations  were  being  made  for  their  apprehension.  Pie 
soon  quieted  their  suspicions,  saying  there  was  no  testi- 
mony, and,  if  the  contrary  were  true,  they  could  easily  prove 
an  alibi. 

The  monthly  meeting  of  the  division  was  held,  McKenna 
acting  as  Secretary,  as  usual.  While  in  the  company  of  his 
friends,  he  thought  it  strange  he  heard  nothing  more  of  the 
Comer  James  affair,  but  concluded  the  feud  had  subsided 
and  the  Welshman  was  to  be  allowed  to  live  in  peace  in  the 
community.  How’  sadly  he  was  deceived  the  sequel  may 
show. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

BLOODY  SATURDAY. 

Early  in  August,  1875,  symptoms  of  smouldering  dis- 
order in  the  coal  regions  began  to  increase  in  severity  and 
! numbers.  Seeing  and  aiq)reciating  this,  Superintendent 

I 

r 


412 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


Franklin  arranged  to  meet  and  hold  council  with  McKenna 
and  Linden  in  the  vicinity  of  Mauch  Chunk.  Glen  Onoko, 
one  of  the  most  entrancing  of  the  many  beautiful  si)Ots  found 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  city  named,  was  the  chosen  place.  In 
sight  of  Dual  Vista,  another  extraordinary  and  charming  re- 
sort, accordingly,  the  three  men  came  together,  and,  in  the 
quiet  shadows  of  the  everlasting  hills — the  Alps  of  America 
— covered  by  the  close-woven  branches  of  the  overhanging 
trees,  they  seated  themselves,  and,  at  their  leisure,  fully  dis-  | 
cussed  the  situation  and  the  work  being  performed.  It  v/as  I 
while  returning  from  this  meeting — the  particulars  of  which  j 
may  not  find  record  here,  as  they  will  be  developed  in  the  j 
history  of  the  progress  of  events — that  McKenna  and  Lin- 
den encountered  Campbell,  McGehan,  and  others,  as  men- 
tioned in  another  connection.  While  Capt.  Linden  remained 
at  Mauch  Chunk  and  Superintendent  Franklin  returned  to 
Philadelphia,  McParlan — otherwise  McKenna — was  con- 
strained to  accompany  Alex.  Campbell  and  his  jolly  com- 
panions to  their  homes.  The  invitation  was  so  pressing,  and 
the  chance  so  good  for  obtaining  knowledge  of  facts  bearing 
upon  the  Yost  case,  and  the  threatened  assassination  of 
Jones,  that  the  watchful  operative  could  not  well  refuse  ac- 
ceptance. Evening  saw  the  collection  of  Mollies,  McKenna 
among  them,  gathered  in  the  smoking-car  bound  for  Summit. 

In  a seat,  not  far  removed  from  them,  but,  to  their  eyes,  j 
so  effectually  steeped  in  liquor  as  to  be  almost  unrecognizable 
• — and  in  fact  entirely  unnoticed  by  Campbell — reposed  the 
form  of  Linden,  every  nerve  really  strung  to  the  highest  ten- 
sion, awake,  cool,  determined,  and  ready,  at  any  moment, 
to  take  his  brother  detectivi^’s  part,  should  he  find  himself  in 
trouble.  Happily  nothing  occurred  to  call  for  his  assistance, 
and  he  feigned  to  sleep  the  time  away,  without  molestation, 
until  the  drunken  crowd  left  the  car.  Linden  continued  his  • I 
journey  to  Tamaqua,  and  there  awaited  McParlan’s  arrival.  I 
Reaching  Summit,  Campbell  pressed  that  operative  to  re-  I 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


413 


main  at  his  house  all  night,  and  he  did  so,  after  first  viewing 
the  basement  in  which  the  late  llodymaster  was  to  assist 
McGehan  to  start  his  gin  mill.  The  building  was  situated 
just  above  the  post-office,  in  an  eligible  locality,  and  prepa- 
rations were  being  made  to  celebrate  the  formal  opening,  to 
occur  on  the  twelfth  of  the  month,  with  appropriate  obser- 
vances. Campbell  asked  no  questions,  but  naturally  con- 
cluded, from  McParlan’s  previous  avowals,  that  his  guest  was 
in  Mauch  Chunk  that  day  to  obtain  a new  stock  of  counter- 
feit money,  and  a crisp  ten  dollar  bill  he  had  seen  him  have 
changed,  when  treating  the  company  in  a saloon,  he  was 
quite  sure  would  not  successfully  pass  examination  at  any 
banking  house.  In  this  he  seriously  erred,  however,  as  the 
currency  was  genuine  and  just  from  the  Shenandoah  post- 
office,  where  Mclvenna  had  presented  and  received  the  cash 
upon  my  postal  order  for  fifty  dollars,  to  be  used  in  paying 
current  expenses. 

I tell  you,  Jim,”  said  Campbell,  “if  I knew  just  where 
to  get  such  flimsies  as  you  find,  at  about  fifty  cents  on  the 
dollar,  I don’t  know  but  I’d  put  aside  me  prejudices  an’ 
religious  scruples  an’  make  a small  investment ! ’’ 

McParlan  was  never  communicative  as  to  the  source  from 
whence  his  bank-bills  came,  but  pleasantly  returned  : 

“ When  ye  git  rid  of  the  rest  of  yer  scruples  and  religious 
principles,  come  to  me  wid  the  ready  cash,  an’  I’ll  do  what 
I’ve  never  done  for  any  wan  afore,  lade  ye  right  up  to  me 
partner  in  business,  an’  indorse  ye  to  him  as  a shover  of  the 
quare  that’ll  do  to  dale  wid  ! ” 

Saying  he  would  remember  this,  the  other  changed  the 
subject  to  the  expulsion  of  Tom  Fisher  from  the  order,  as 
an  inactive  and  inefficient  leader,  because  he,  Alex.  Camp- 
bell, thought  himself  much  better  qualified  for,  and  really 
wanted  the  conspicuous  place.  The  Shenandoah  Secretary 
replied  he  had  never  heard  anything  urged  against  Fisher, 
only  that  he  was  not  in  favor  of  putting  the  enemies  of  the 


414 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


order  under  the  sod,  but  that  was  a serious  objection  to  any 
Ancient  Order  man,  hence  he  was  in  favor  of  cutting  Fisher 
off  and  electing  Campbell,  who  was  a chief  after  his  own 
heart,  and  would  not  hesitate  to  shoot  a rascally  Welsh  boss 
in  person,  if  it  was  found  for  the  good  of  the  society.  The 
Summit  oflicial  swallowed  the  bait,  hook  and  all,  and 
remarked,  self-complacently,  that  he  believed,  after  the 
Tamaqua  Convention,  already  called  for  the  25th  of  August, 
he  would  have  John  P.  Jones  taken  care  of,  whether  Kerri- 
gan came  up  with  his  assistance  or  not.  There  were  now 
two  men  m his  neighborhood,  Hugh  McGehan  and  James 
Koarty,  who  could  not  be  matched  for  excellence  in  shuf- 
fling off  the  mortal  coil  for  those  needing  such  a job  per- 
formed, and  if  he  once  sent  them  out,  that  mining  boss  would 
never  as^ain  have  a chance  to  refuse  a friend  of  his  work  in 
the  breast.  Jones,  the  detective  found  out,  resided  at  Storm 
Hill,  about  Lansford,  not  far  from  Mike  O’Donnel’s  tavern, 
in  a field  just  at  the  foot  of  an  old  plane  near  the  pipe-line 
ascending  to  Summit  Hill,  and  Campbell  thought  it  one  of 
the  easiest  things  imaginable  to  take  the  man  off  just  after 
sunrise,  some  fine  morning,  when  on  the  way  to  Number 
Four  Breaker,  without  a soul  being  the  wiser  for  the  job. 
“We’ll  fix  him,  yet!”  was  the  late  Bodymaster’s  conclusion 
of  the  talk,  when  suddenly  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
Mrs.  Campbell.  “Not  a word  more  !”  was  the  sign  made 
by  the  late  Bodymaster,  with  a finger  on  his  lip,  and  as 
readily  understood  by  McParlan,  who  quickly  changed  the 
subject,  saying,  as  a blind,  he  thought  the  “ Company  would 
very  soon  get  sick  of  standing  out  against  the  Union  and  offer 
to  compromise  on  as  favorable  a basis  as  that  of  1874.”  i^^rs 
Campbell  suspected  nothing,  and  thought  so  too.  Alex. 
Campbell  knew  it  must  come  to  that.  After  singing 
“ Widow  Machree,”  for  the  lady,  the  detective  retired  to 
his  apartment. 

The  second  day  after  the  grand  opening — the  fourteenth  of 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


415 


August,  rendered  memorable  as  “bloody  Saturday”  in  the 
coal  regions — a fact,  however,  that  had  not  yet  reached  the 
knowledge  of  the  little  community  at  Summit  Hill,  where 
few  newspapers  were  taken  and  the  telegraph  operatives 
were  seriously  uncommunicative — McParlan  met  his  pre- 
tended relative,  Pat  McKenna,  the  Bodymaster,  but  learned 
nothing  new.  At  four  o’clock  the  same  afternoon  he  re- 
paired to  McGehan’s  saloon  with  Campbell,  and  found 
Hugh,  perfectly  at  his  ease,  smoking  a pipe  as  complacently 
as  though  no  innocent  human  blood  stained  the  hand  that 
supported  his  head.  They  had  a pleasant  chat,  McParlan 
told  one  or  two  stories,  and  also  took  a whiff  from  his  cutty- 
pipe,  and  the  three  enjoyed  themselves  in  this  way  for  an 
hour.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  no  strangers  being  about, 
McParlan  produced  the  new,  nickel-plated  pistol,  which  he 
said  he  had  taken  from  his  hypothetical  Welshman  in  Tama- 
j qua,  and  handed  it  over  to  McGehan  for  his  scrutiny.  Pie 
' clicked  the  lock  critically,  looked  at  the  cylinder,  and  passed 
it  back,  saying  it  was  “ an  illigant  affair,  altogether.” 

“ So  it  is  ! ” replied  the  owner  of  the  repeater,  putting  it 
away,  “ but  divil  a bit  of  good  will  it  do  me,  in  this  or  any 
other  matter,  if  I can’t  find  some  cartridges  ! I don’t  dare 
buy  a single  wan  in  the  borough  of  Tamaqua,  for  fear  the 
gun  may  be  traced  to  me  ownershi[),  an’  1 don’t  care  to  go 
up  on  so  small  a job,  when  I can  have  bigger  ones  for  the 
axin’  ! ” 

McGehan  hesitated  a moment,  looked  cautiously  around 
the  room,  was  assured  that  no  one  outside  the  Mollie  ring 
heard  him.  and  then  answered,  in  a low  tone  of  voice  : 

“ The  cartridges  for  Roarty’s  revolver  might  fit  your 
shooter,  but  I am  not  so  sure  that  he  has  one  left ; an’  he 
too  is  a little  timid  about  purchasing,  as  it  wor  his  pistol 
that  I had  to  shoot  Yost  with  I ” 

“ Is  that  so  ? ” carelessly  remarked  the  detective,  betray- 
’ng  no  sign  of  undue  excitement  over  McGehan’s  voluntary 


4i6 


BLOODY  SATURDAY. 


and  tacit  admission  that  he  had  killed  the  Tamaqiia  police- 
man, and  at  once  adding  : “ Well,  never  mind  ! I can 
use  the  two  I have  in  the  cylinder,  in  case  of  accident,  an’ 
as  I’m  a tolerable  marksman,  1 think  no  more’ll  be  actually 
wanted.” 

McParlan  had  the  three  missing  cartridges,  at  the  moment, 
safely  secreted  in  his  pocket.  But  McGehan  was  in  for  a 
clean  breast  of  the  whole  matter — would  not  stop — and  went 
on  with  the  narration  : 

“Ye  see,  we  came  to  do  the  job  in  this  way  ! Kerrigan 
an’  Campbell,  they  had  a trade  between  them,  an’  I an’ 
Boyle  was  to  go  along,  so  was  Roarty,  who  started  on  ahead. 
Kerrigan  agreed  to  get  the  pistols  for  us.  W^hen  we — Boyle 
and  I — got  over  to  Campbell’s  we  heard  a messenger  had 
been  there  before  us,  coinin’  from  Roarty’ s house,  wid  a word 
sayin’  as  how.Roarty’s  wife  was  taken  sick,  an’  for  him  to  go 
straight  for  the  doctor  ; Roarty  did  so,  but  sent  forward  his 
pistol  to  represent  him,  to  Carroll’s  house,  where  we  were 
told  to  meet.  Wlien  we  reached  Carroll’s,  sure  an’  Rcarty’s 
black  pistol  wor  the  only  serviceable  weapon  in  the  whole 
company,  an’  Jim  Carroll,  he  gave  us  a little,  old,  breech- 
loading, single-barrel  affair,  which  was  of  no  account.  I 
took  the  big  shooter,  an’  gave  the  other  to  Boyle,  after 
Kerrigan  had  been  out  to  try  an’  borrow  another,  an’  re- 
turned empty-handed.  An’  I told  Boyle,  if  he  wakened, 
upon  gettin’  up  to  Ydst,  an’  stirred  a foot  in  retrate,  I’d 
shoot  him  down  too  ! Kerrigan  then  went  up  Broad  Street 
an’  put  us  in  our  places,  near  the  fence,  in  the  shadow  of 
some  trees,  an’  after  that  went  down  town,  saw  the  police- 
men together,  and  took  a sip  o’  whisky  wid  Yost — more’n  I’d 
ha’  done  in  such  a case — when  he  jist  come  back  to  us,  by  a 
winding  route,  sayin’  all  wor  right,  an’  the  men  would  be  up 
by  midniglit,  or  a little  later.  They  had  to  put  out  two 
lamps  near  by.  One  would  be  taken  by  Yost,  to  outen, 
and  the  other  b^’  McCarron.  It  wor  nearly  two  o’clock 


41/ 


BLOODY  SA  TUB  DA  Y. 

N. 

when  they  came,  both  together,  which  wor  very  different 
from  our  expectations.  But  they  came  ! Kerrigan  wanted 
to  be  there,  armed  wid  two  rocks  in  his  hands,  to  bate  out 
Yost’s  brains,  in  case  the  pistols  failed,  but  I ordered  him 
away  and  made  him  stand  fifty  yards  off,  rightly  thinkin’  he 
wor  too  noticeable,  from  his  small  size,  an’  if  any  one  saw 
him  he  would  be  known  an’  remembered.  Then  the  thing 
wor  done  ! Roarty’s  pistol  did  it  ! It’s  all  nonsense  to  say 
McCarron  did  not  give  chase,  fur  he  did,  an’  fired  two  shots 
at  us,  which  1 returned,  an’  then  we  ran  away,  Kerrigan,  the 
rat,  along  wid  us  ! But  I made  him  lave  when  we  came 
out  at  Breslin’s  White  Bear  tavern,  an’  1 would  have  been 
much  better  plazed  had  he  remained  away  an’  left  us  to  find 
our  route  by  ourselves  ! ” 

“ It  wor  a mighty  slick  thing  ! ” exclaimed  the  operative, 
“an’  I’m  sure  Tamaqua  Division  should  be  willin’ to  send 
you  over  men  to  do  your  job  whenever  ye  may  ask  it  ! ” 

Campbell  was  of  the  same  belief,  saying  that  Kerrigan 
and  Carroll  were  all  right  and  would  come  up  with  their 
help  in  due  season. 

The  ensuing  Sunday,  at  church,  in  company  with  Camp- 
bell, McParlan  met  James  Roarty,  and  the  latter  accom- 
panied him  to  McGehan’s.  Then,  in  McGehan’s  presence, 
he  made  more  inquiry  for  cartridges  for  his  supposed-to-be- 
stolen  revolver,  and  Roarty  answered  : 

“ I believe  I have  some  belonging  to  the  revolver  Mc- 
Gehan  used  at  Tamaqua  ! ” 

He  made  known  his  willingness  to  supply  a charge  to  Mc- 
Parlan. Then  Roarty  left,  expecting  soon  to  return,  and 
McParlan  and  McGehan  passed  the  evening,  to  a late  hour, 
waiting  in  the  damp,  cool  basement,  but  Roarty  did  not 
get  back,  probably  being  prevented  by  the  rain,  which  was 
falling,  and  finally  the  operative  separated  from  his  com- 
panion, returning  to  Campbell’s  for  a bed. 

During  the  detective’s  talk  with  McGehan  he  found  that 
i8* 


4i8 


BLOOD  y SA  TURD  A Y. 


the  murderer  of  Yost  boarded  with  a young  widow  lady, 
named  Mrs.  Boyle,  living  near  Number  Four  Breaker,  who 
was  very  fond  of  her  lodger,  and  intended  to  become  his 
wife.  It  was  more  than  probable,  from  this  circumstance, 
that,  should  McGehan  be  arrested,  Mrs.  Boyle  would  try  to 
swear  him  clear,  by  saying  he  had  been  in  her  company  the 
night  of  the  fifth  of  July.  How  clearly  McParlan  saw  future 
events  will  be  shown  hereafter. 

Well  satisfied  with  his  trip  to  I.,ansford  and  vicinity, 
McKenna  returned  to  Tamaqua  with  Alex.  Campbell  the 
ensuing  Monday,  there  to  find  very  important  news.  Pick- 
ing up  a copy  of  the  Pottsville  Miners'  Journal^  for  Mon- 
day, the  i6th  of  August,  the  agent  read  aloud  to  his  com- 
rades an  article,  entitled  “ Bloody  Saturday,”  of  which  the 
following  is  a summary  : 

“ Saturday  was  a horrible  day  for  the  people  of  the 
Mahanoy  Valley.  The  devil  had  business  on  his  hands. 
Two  dastardly  assassinations  and  one  case  of  manslaughter, 
beside  several  cases  of  lesser  crimes,  were  his  harvest.  At 
Girardville,  possibly  the  most  heinous  act  of  the  short  but 
bloody  list  was  committed.  A good  citizen,  and  a mild, 
inoffensive  man,  was  murdered,  in  the  person  of  Thomas 
Gwyther,  Justice  of  the  Peace. 

“ Saturday,  the  miners  in  the  Mahanoy  Valley  received 
the  first  pay  of  any  consequence  since  the  strike,  and  the 
result  was  that  Girardville,  in  the  evening,  was  crowded 
with  men  in  various  stages  of  intoxication.  The  rougher 
element  grew  absolutely  rampant  and  defiant  of  lawful 
restraint.  Gangs  of  ruffians  went  about  the  streets,  flour- 
ishing their  revolvers.  Though  there  were  special  police- 
men, they  were  powerless  and  cowed.  One  of  the  bands 
was  headed  by  a man  named  Hoary,  who  was  heard  to 
exclaim,  as  he  exhibited  his  weapon  : ‘ Give  me  some  one 

to  shoot  ! I’ll  kill  the  first  man  that  insults  me  !’  In  their 
travels  this  party  went  to  Jacob  Wendel’s  tavern,  and 


BLOODY  SA  TURD  A V. 


419 


jostled  a number  of  persons  in  the  bar  room.  Hoary 
struck  and  maltreated  Mr.  Sheisler.  Squire  Gwyther  was 
sitting  in  the  room,  at  the  time,  and  to  him  Hoary’s  victim 
ai)plied  for  a warrant.  Before  matters  could  advance  any 
further  there,  Wendel  put  Hoary  and  party  out,  and  tlien 
let  the  Squire  and  the  complainant  out  by  the  back  way. 
They  went  to  the  Squire’s  office  and  he  had  begun  to  write 
out  a warrant  for  Hoary’s  arrest,  when  that  individual  and 
his  gang  entered  the  office,  threatening  to  kill  both  the 
Justice  and  the  jdaintiff  if  the  warrant  should  be  issued. 
They  were  got  out  and  the  door  locked.  The  warrant  was 
properly  prepared,  and  the  Squire  stepped  out  to  look  for 
Hoary,  He  was  standing  near  his  own  door  at  the  corner, 
when  he  found  a man  a few  yards  off  with  a leveled  gun. 
His  daughter  also  saw  the  same  man,  and  cried  out,  ‘ For 
God’s  sake,  don’t  shoot  father  ! ’ Almost  immediatelv  the 
gun  was  fired,  the  contents  taking  effect  in  the  breast  of  the 
Justice  and  in  a short  while  causing  death.  The  assassin 
fled  and  escaped.  A man  named  Thos.  Love  was  arrested 
on  suspicion,  but  he  proved  an  and  was  released.  Sub- 
sequently it  was  ascertained  that  the  assassin  was  Wm. 
Love,  who  is  missing.  Naturally,  so  bold  a defiance  of 
law  and  so  dastardly  a murder  created  the  most  intense 
excitement  in  the  borough  and  vicinity,  where  the  victim 
was  known  and  esteemed. 

“ At  Shenandoah  a cool  and  premeditated  murder  was 
committed.  The  motive  of  this  particular  assassination  is  to 
be  sought  in  the  events  of  the  past.  On  Monday  night, 
August  the  nth,  1873,  ^ Welshman,  named  Tom  Jones,  was 
assaulted,  knocked  down  and  beaten  by  one  Edward  Gos- 
grove,  in  Shenandoah.  Jones’  friends  ran  to  his  rescue,  and 
among  them  was  a young  fellow,  called  Gomer  James,  a 
Welsh  miner.  In  the  trouble  which  followed,  Cosgrove  was 
shot  and  killed,  James  was  accused  of  his  murder,  arrested 
and  tried.  The  testimony  at  the  trial  was  not  sufficient  to 


420 


BLOODY  S A T UR  DA  F. 


convict  him  and  he  was  acquitted.  His  escape  incensed 
Cosgrove’s  friends^  who  believed  James  guilty,  and  threats- 
were  made  to  take  his  life.  Saturday  last,  the  Rescue  Hook 
and  Ladder  Company,  of  Shenandoah,  held  a ])icnic,  which 
being  well  attended,  was  run  far  into  the  night.  Corner 
James,  somewhere  about  ii  o’clock,  was  inside  a bar  at  this 
picnic,  waiting  upon  its  patrons,  and  a number  of  men  came 
up.  They  asked  for  beer,  and  while  James  was  drawing  it 
he- was  shot  and  killed.  In  the  semi-darkness  and  confusion 
the  assassin  escaped. 

“ A dispatch  from  Shenandoah,  received  last  evening,  says  : 

‘ Comer  James  was  shot  last  evening,  about  12  o’clock,  at  the 
picnic  grounds  in  Hecksher  and^  Clover’s  Crove,  the  ball 
passing  through  his  heart,  embedding  itself  in  his  back  near 
the  skin.  Dr.  Quail,  Coroner,  assisted  by  Drs.  Reagan  and 
Byers,  held  a post  mortem  examination.  Deputy  Coroner 
Dengler  impaneled  the  following  jury;  T.  J.  Foster,  R. 
Stacker,  Lyam  Bloom,  Ceorge  A.  Herring,  A.  H.  Roades, 
and  H.  C.  Boyer.  The  jury  adjourned  until  Monday  morn- 
ing to  finish  hearing  the  testimony,  there  being  a large  num- 
ber of  witnesses.  The  evidence  so  far  is  likely  to  point  sus- 
picion on  some  one.’ 

“ The  usual  results  of  a large  pay  were  visible  in  Mahanoy, 
Saturday  night.  There  were  numbers  of  drunken  men  on 
the  streets,  and  a lawless  spirit  seemed  to  animate  some  of 
them.  There  were  several  encounters,  in  which  individuals 
got  roughly  handled,  and  a fight  which  cost  the  life  of  an 
innocent  citizen.  A disturbance  arose  at  Phillips’  Pottsville 
House,  on  Centre  Street,  between  Wm.  M.  Thomas  and  a 
man  named  James  Dugan.  Both  drew  revolvers,  and  fired 
a number  of  shots  at  each  other.  Which  fired  first  we  could 
not  ascertain.  Thomas  was  in  an  intoxicated  condition. 

4 

He  received  a bullet  in  his  left  cheek,  where  it  now  is.  A 
man  whose  name  is  given  as  Christian  Zimmerman,  or  Chris- 
tian Brenhower,  who  was  .standing  across  the  street,  waiting 


BLOODY  SA  TURD  A Y. 


421 


for  his  wife  to  come  out  of  a store  where  she  was  shopping, 
received  a bullet  through  his  left  lung.  It  was  taken  out  of 
his  back.  Though  alive  at  five  o’clock  yesterday  afternoon, 
this  unfortunate  man  was  surely  dying,  having  made  his  will. 
Yesterday  Dugan  was  arrested  and  held  by  Squire  Comrey 
in  $800,  for  an  aggravated  assault  and  battery  on  William 
Thomas.  Thomas  was  arrested  and  committed  by  Sc|uire 
Groody  in  default  of  $r,8oo  bail,  for  an  aggravated  assault 
and  battery  on  Dugan.  He  was  lodged  in  the  county  jail 
yesterday  afternoon  by  officer  Gorman.  So  it  appears  no 
one  has  been  arrested  for  the  killing  of  the  innocent  man. 

A man,  whose  name  we  did  not  learn,  received  a flesh 
wound  in  a leg  during  the  shooting.  Another,  called  ‘ Car- 
ney,’ a shoemaker,  while  standing  on  his  own  door-step,  was 
assaulted  by  a party  of  young  men,  struck  on  the  head  with 
a billy,  and  had  an  oyster  knife  stuck  into  his  back.  His  in- 
juries are  not  serious  ! ” 

McKenna  Avas  astounded  to  find  that  Corner  James,  after 
so  much  had  been  done  for  him,  should  have  engaged  in  any 
public  position,  especially  as  booth-tender  at  a picnic,  thus 
placing  himself  temptingly  before  the  Mollies,  who,  for  over 
two  years,  as  he  must  have  known,  had  been  thirsting  tor  his 
blood.  He  reached  the  very  result  that  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  such  criminal  recklessness. 

When  Alex.  Campbell  learned  that  Comer  James  was 
killed,  he  almost  shed  tears  of  delight.  McKenna  was 
forced,  against  his  will,  to  participate  in  the  general  rejoicing 
which  followed.  It  proved  hard  for  him  to  put  on  the  hate- 
ful mask,  but,  galling  as  it  was,  he  had  to  wear  it.  The 
same  afternoon,  he  returned  to  Mahanoy  City,  finding  the 
country  in  a blaze  of  excitement,  and  none  the  more  safe 
place  of  refuge  for  a man,  well  known  as  a prominent  mem- 
ber of  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians,  otherwise  the 
Mollie  Maguires,  as  he  was.  Remaining  but  a short  time, 
ne  went,  by  train,  to  Shenandoah,  saying,  when  he  met  Me- 


422 


BLOOD  V SA  TURD  A K 


Andrew,  Morris,  and  Lawler  at  that  place,  that  his  friends,  the 
Buffalo  detectives,  had  either  been  frightened  off  by  recent 
occurrences,  or  gone  away  to  Canada,  on  a false  scent,  and 
it  was  no  longer  necessary  he  should  hide  from  them.  All 
the  Mollies  were  glad  to  meet  him.  The  non-Mollies,  as 
they  were  aware  of  his  prolonged  absence  from  the  vicinity, 
could  not  look  ui)on  him  as  at  all  chargeable  with  the  killing 
of  Corner  James,  and  therefore  did  not,  at  this  time,  par- 
ticularly seek  his  life.  They — the  goodly  citizens — merely 
glanced  at  him,  out  of  the  corners  of  their  eyes,  and  some 
thought  he  was  good  enough  to  be  hanged,  but  made  no 
overt  demonstrations. 

McKenna  had  not  been  four  hours  in  Shenandoah  when 
he  learned,  through  Muff  Lawler,  that  there  was  little  doubt 
who  had  done  for  the  young  Welshman.  Mike  Carey,  who 
was  present,  with  Lawler,  McAndrew,  Morris,  and  other 
Mollies,  said  in  an  impressive  whisper : 

Hurley  reached  forward,  over  the  counter,  and  fired,  the 
bullet  striking  Comer  James  full  in  his  heart,  an’  he  fell  ! 
Before  any  one  could  go  to  his  assistance  he  wor  dead  ! I 
saw  the  thing  done  myself!  ” 

It  seems  that  Shenandoah  Division  was  in  session  at  the 
time  of  the  assassination — eleven  o’clock  at  night  of  the 
fourteenth — when  Carey  rushed  in,  before  the  members,  and 
announced,  “Tom  Hurley  has  shot  Comer  James!”  He 
was  quickly  stopped  by  McAndrew,  and  subsequently  sharply 
reprimanded  because  of  his  thoughtlessness,  in  making  such 
a statement  before  all  the  members.  But  it  was  doubtless 
true  that  Tom  Hurley  had  done  the  deed. 

As  a result  of  this  unexpected  success,  all  the  Mollies  in 
Shenandoah  engaged  in  a grand  bacchanal,  and  few  remained 
sober.  To  get  rid  of  them,  McKenna  left  the  place  and 
went  to  Cirardville.  Kehoe  said  that  the  murder  of  Squire 
Cwyther  was  the  result  of  a drunken  spree,  and  Love,  he  was 
glad  to  say,  had  made  his  escape.  The  young  man,  Thomas 


Hurley  reached  forward^  over  the  counter  ^ and  fired^  the  bullet  striking  G< 


MOJ^E  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


423 


I^ove,  who  had  been  arrested  by  High  Constable  Kehoe,  in 
person,  he  knew,  as  well  as  any  one,  was  cpiite  innocent,  but 
the  brother,  who  was  guilty,  had  traveled  off,  untrainmeled. 

This  dark  day  was  not  the  end  of  the  reign  of  the  assassins 
in  Pennsylvania. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

MORE  BOSSES  DOOMED. 

Now  the  Mollies  having  Comer  James  dead  and  buried 
and  out  of  their  way,  it  was  believed  by  some  bloodshed 
would  cease.  But  the  attentive  reader  will  have  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  end  was  not  yet.  For  my  own  part,  I 
must  confess  to  having  experienced  occasional  periods  of  disap- 
pointment. Here  had  I been,  using  my  best  efforts,  seconded 
by  the  most  effective  help  the  Company  could  furnish,  and 
notwithstanding  our  united  action,  despite  the  fact  that  we 
daily  knew  much  of  the  order,  assassinations  were  not  being 
entirely  prevented.  This  midnight  society,  to  guard  against 
surprise  or  capture,  had  its  committees  within  committees, 
or,  in  other  words,  its  secret  affairs  were  seldom  given  to  the 
general  members,  but  were  kept  in  charge  of  the  leading 
officers  and  prominent  personages.  Hence,  very  few  of  the 
Mollies  in  Shenandoah  were  officially  aware  of  the  fact  that 
Comer  James  was  to  be  put  out  of  the  way.  McAndrew, 
Hurley,  Morris,  Munley,  Monaghan,  McKenna,  and  a few 
more  knew  it,  and  kept  it  to  themselves — excepting  the  de- 
tective who  reported  it — as  those  in  Tamaqua  and  Summit 
Hill  retained  among  a few  leading  spirits  the  facts  connected 
with  the  murder  of  Yost  and  the  preparations  for  cutting  off 
John  P.  Jones.  But  Jones  was  notified  by  Mr.  Franklin,  a 


424 


M0/^£  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


guard  of  men  put  in  his  house,  and  the  boss  instructed  to 
seek  some  other  route,  by  wliich  to  reach  his  work,  than  the 
pipe-line.  For  a while  he  maintained  a measure  of  caution, 
but  not  during  many  weeks  ; it  became  an  old  story.  Dan- 
ger, as  he  thought,  had  been  overestimated.  Carelessness 
and  the  resumption  of  his  former  habits  quickly  followed  this 
conclusion. 

The  convention,  appointed  for  the  twenty-fifth  of  August, 
occurred  at  Carroll’s  house,  the  members  occupying  three 
chambers  in  the  upper  part  of  the  building.  Among  those 
convened  on  this  interesting  occasion  were  Jack  Kehoe, 
County  Delegate  ; Wm.  Gavin,  County  Secretary  ; Christo- 
pher Donnelly,  County  Treasurer ; Jerry  Kane,  of  Alt. 
Laffee  ; Francis  Keenan,  of  F'orestville  ; Frank  O’Neill,  of  St. 
Clair;  James  Roarty,  of  Coaldale  ; John  Donahue — “Yel- 
low Jack” — of  Tuscarora,  and  Michael  O’Brien,  of  Maha- 
noy  City.  Tom  Hurley  and  John  Morris,  of  Shenandoah, 
were  in  one  of  the  rooms  for  a few  minutes.  Many  outsiders 
seemed  to  be  in  the  city  and  in  the  building,  but  the  parties 
mentioned  transacted  all  the  business  of  the  meeting.  Pat 
Butler  was  on  hand,  but  not  as  a legal  part  of  the  conven- 
tion’s commiftee — only  as  a sort  of  witness.  During  the 
session  of  the  lesser  body,  which  was  devoted  principally  to 
hearing  grievances,  expelling  and  readmitting  members, 
Tom  Hurley  came  forward  and  made  known  that  to  him, 
and  to  no  one  else,  was  the  society  indebted  for  the  killing 
of  Comer  James.  Modesty,  it  appears,  was  far  from  a 
prominent  point  in  Hurley’s  character.  At  least,  on  this  day, 
he  not  only  boasted  much  of  his  peculiar  service,  but  put 
before  the  order,  with  no  circumlocution  or  evasion,  a direct 
and  open  claim  to  a money  reward  for  putting  out  of  the 
way  the  murderer  of  Cosgrove.  He  thought  he  was  entitled 
to  a large  sum  for  his  success.  James  McKenna,  the  detec- 
tive, acting  as  Secretary  of  the  committee  before  which 
Hurley’s  demand  was  made,  was  obliged  to  receive  it,  but 


MORE  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


425 

Pat  Butler,  of  Loss  Creek,  presented  himself  before  the  same 
committee  with  the  verbal  demand  of  one  McClain,  of  his 
division,  who  asserted  that  he,  and  not  Plurley,  had  been  the 
marksman  who  brought  down  the  young  Welshman.  When 
Kehoe  heard  of  the  difference,  he  ordered  Pat  Butler  and 
James  McKenna  to  act  as  arbiters  and  to  settle  the  difference 
by  holding  an  investigation  and  reporting  a decision,  in  writ- 
ing, at  a subsequent  date,  directing  to  him  at  his  home  in 
Girardville.  They  accepted  the  duty  and  appointed  the  suc- 
I ceeding  Sabbath  for  the  appearance,  in  Shenandoah,  of  the 
two  men  and  their  witnesses,  when  the  case  should  be  heard 
and  adjusted  according  to  its  real  merits.  Kehoe  would 
make  no  movement  toward  rewarding  the  man,  who,  he  was 
free  to  say,  deserved  a fair  recompense,  until  this  trial  had 
been  concluded.  Friends  of  Hurley  were  satisfied,  they 
I urged,  that  a dozen  persons  could  swear  Tom  did  the  shoot- 
ing. Every  confidence  was  expressed  that  the  blood-money 
would  go  to  him  and  to  no  other  person. 

Jerry  Kane,  Pat  Dolan,  Frank  Keenan,  Jack  Donahue, 
Mike  O’Brien,  and  James  McKenna,  constituted  the  com- 
mittee first  spoken  of  as  having  been  selected  by  the  con- 
vention. 

The  convention  and  its  committee,  after  transacting  their 
legitimate  business,  adjourned,  the  members  returning  to 
their  respective  homes,  only  Hurley,  Morris,  and  McKenna 
remaining  at  Tamaqua  over  night. 

The  Shenandoah  Mollies  were  very  anxious  to  enlist  the 
Secretary  in  assisting  to  get  bail  for  Chas.  Hayes,  who  was 
in  jail  in  Pottsville.  He  consented,  and  through  his  influ- 
ence Marks,  the  proprietor  of  the  Columbia  House,  was 
induced  to  sign  Hayes’  bond.  This  resulted  in  the  young 
man’s  release,  and  earned  for  McKenna  the  gratitude  of  his 
many  friends. 

McAndrew,  while  in  attendance  upon  the  convention,  was 
approached  by  Kerrigan  and  asked  to  send  men  to  do  the 


426 


MORE  BOSSES  DOOMED, 


Jones  killing.  The  Shenandoah  President  answered,  assur- 
ing him  he  would,  if  he  could  be  made  to  see  that  assistance 
was,  in  return,  ready  for  him  when  required.  Kerrigan 
promised  to  furnish  the  needed  men  on  a trade,  and  then 
JVIcAndrew  said  he  should  have  the  help  of  his  branch  in 
doing  anything  reasonable. 

McKenna  went  back  to  Shenandoah  the  day  following 
the  convention,  accompanied  by  Morris  and  Hurley,  and 
while  on  the  way  his  comrades  were  anxious  to  know  if  the 
operative  had  recently  seen  anything  of  Linden.  He 
answered  that  he  had  not. 

“ If  I thouglit,  for  wan  moment,  Linden  wor  doin’  any. 
thing  on  us,  or  on  you,  McKenna,  I’d  make  him  a target  for 
me  revolver  as  sure  as  ever  I came  up  wid  him ! ” 

This  sentiment  of  Hurley’s  was  echoed  by  John  Morris, 
who  said  he’d  shoot  Linden  on  sight,  in  such  a contingency. 

“ Oh,  ye  naden’t  spend  yer  precious  breath  over  Linden  !” 
replied  McKenna.  “ I know  him  pretty  well ! He’s  all  as 
right  as  a trivet,  as  square  as  any  man  can  be,  and  will  never 
go  back  on  his  true  friends ! ” 

This  quieted  the  fears  of  the  two  men  for  the  time,  and  no 
more  threats  were  indulged  in  during  the  journey.  McKenna 
informed  Linden  by  letter,  that  night,  of  his  danger,  at  least 
regarding  the  empty  menaces  of  Morris  and  Hurley,  hinting 
that  it  might  be  well  that  his  friend  have  a care  for  himself 
during  the  excitement  prevailing,  or  he  would  possibly  find 
the  acts  of  the  Mollies  in  question  not  so  harmless  as  their 
savage  words  and  looks. 

The  meeting  to  prove  or  refute  Hurley’s  assertion  that  he 
killed  Gomer  James,  as  against  the  application  of  McClain 
for  the  same  rare  distinction,  took  place  near  Number  Three 
Breaker,  Sunday,  the  twenty-ninth  of  August.  McKenna, 
Pat  Butler,  Hurley,  and  several  of  his  witnesses,  gathered  in 
the  bush  at  the  appointed  time.  There  was  little  or  no  evi- 
dence introduced,  but  Hurley’s  statement  was  reiterated. 


MO/^E  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


427 


He  said  he,  with  his  own  hand,  had  killed  the  young  Welsh- 
man, and  demanded  recompense  for  the  act  in  no  measured 
terms.  His  own  mother,  it  seems,  had  been  an  eye-witness 
of  the  murderous  work  of  the  son.  She  had  heard  him  swear 
he  would  shoot  James  or  be  killed  himself.  Hurley  had  no 
compunctions  of  conscience  in  refusing  to  obey  her  command 
to  go  home,  but  repeated  his  oath  that  he  “ would  fetch 
Corner  James  that  day,  if  it  cost  him  his  life  ! ” Too  well 
had  he  kept  his  word.  Now  he  wanted  the  wages  of  his 
iniquity,  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  for  which,  more  than  from 
feelings  of  revenge,  he  had  shed  human  blood. 

Butler’s  man,  McClain,  so  the  Loss  Creek  Bodymaster 
intimated,  was  afraid  to  meet  Hurley,  refused  to  put  in  an 
appearance  before  the  committee,  and  there  was  no  course 
left  but  to  quietly  acquiesce  in  Hurley’s  charge.  This  was 
done,  and  McKenna  requested  to  prepare  a written  version 
of  the  decision  arrived  at  and  forward  the  same  to  the  County 
Delegate.  There  the  duty  of  the  committee  of  two  ended. 
The  men  dispersed  to  their  houses,  and  Hurley  had  made 
another  confession,  before  witnesses,  of  his  guilt. 

The  following  Monday,  Hurley  presented  himself  at  Mc- 
Kenna’s boarding-place,  received  the  letter  to  Jack  Kehoe, 
and  departed  in  quest  of  the  reward  for  his  deed.  It  is  not 
known  that  he  ever  received  it.  But,  at  a later  date,  Kehoe 
was  heard  by  the  detective  to  say  that  Hurley  should  be 
given  five  hundred  dollars,  by  right,  from  the  society’s  treas- 
ury for  the  important  job  he  had  performed.  Jack  was 
always  very  free-hearted  as  long  as  the  money  donated  did 
not  come  from  his  own  pocket.  It  is  fair  to  presume  that 
the  murderer  will  have  to  wait  until  the  gallows  claims  its 
own  before  fully  realizing  his  worldly  recompense  for  that 
cold-blooded  assassination.  After  finishing  this  matter  the 
two  men  adjourned  to  Tobin’s  ball-alley,  where  they  had 
several  games.  The  operative  thought  it  necessary  that  he 
should  be  seen  in  company  with  Hurley,  and  at  the  same 


428 


MOJ?E  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


time  remember,  if  he  could,  who  observed  the  companion- 
ship. I 

It  was  very  late  when  McKenna  retired  that  night — rather  \ 
quite  early  in  the  morning — and  he  was  so  completely  fagged  ' 
out  by  the  labors  of  the  day,  not  to  speak  of  the  drinks 
Hurley  had  compelled  him  to  imbibe,  that  he  slept  until 
after  sunrise.  When  he  did  regain  consciousness  he  found 
another  man  reposing  in  the  bed  by  his  side.  Sitting  up, 
and  somewhat  astonished  that  such  a liberty  should  be  taken 
with  his  apartment,  the  agent  learned  that  his  companion 
was  none  other  than  Mike  Doyle,  who  had  evidently  arrived 
after  all  Mrs.  Cooney’s  couches  were  occupied  and  been 
sent  to  repose  with  him.  So  soundly  was  the  operative 
sleeping  that  he  was  unaware  of  the  fact  that  he  had  an  un- 
bidden bedfellow.  When  he  arose,  which  was  soon  after 
making  the  discovery,  he  saw,  on  the  wash-stand,  a Smith 
and  Wesson  revolver,  about  the  size  of  the  new  one  he  car- 
ried, where  it  had  probably  been  left  by  Doyle.  This  por- 
tended business,  as  he  very  well  knew  that  Doyle  had  no 
weapon  of  his  own,  and  he  at  once  proceeded  to  rouse  his 
partner  and  ask  him  what  was  in  the  wind. 

“ Where  did  ye  get  the  repeater  ? ” asked  McKenna, 
pointing  to  the  pistol,  when  Doyle  had  sufficiently  rubbed 
his  eyes  to  understand  where  he  really  was. 

Oh,  1 got  it  from  Ned  Monaghan,”  he  replied,  yawning, 
as  if  not  above  half  pleased  that  he  had  been  called  so  early. 

‘‘An’  I suppose  Monaghan  is  so  rich  that  he  can  afford  to 
be  afther  givin’  away  five-shooters  to  every  man  what  comes 
along  ! Faix,  I belave  I’ll  have  to  get  meself  one  that 
way  ! ” 

“ No  ! I have  only  borrowed  the  pistol ! There’s  a big 
job  on  hand!  Me  an’  Jim  an’  Charlie  O’Donnell,  Charlie 
McAllister  an’  Munley  are  to  go  to  Raven  Run  an’  jist  finish 
off  Tom  Sanger,  the  mining  boss,  an’  take  him  afther  he 
comes  out  to  his  dinner  1 ” 


MOJ^E  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


429 


“Is  that  all?”  inquired  McKenna,  treating  the  matter 
lightly,  but  feeling,  in  truth,  very  much  concerned,  as  he 
knew  the  })ersons  mentioned  and  was  very  sure  there 
would  be  bloody  work  whenever  Friday  O’Donnell  had  a 
share. 

“ I think,  for  my  part,  that’s  plenty  an’  to  spare,”  returned 
Doyle,  as  he  proceeded  to  dress  himself.  “ I don’t  at  all 
relish  the  thing  ! But  of  course  orders  must  be  obeyed,  an’ 
I’m  the  last  man  to  go  back  on  the  Bodymasther  ! ” 

Here  was  news  for  the  detective — early  news,  at  that.  But 
what  could  he  do  with  it  ? By  the  time  he  was  well  down 
stairs  to  breakfast,  Doyle  signified  his  readiness  for  that  meal. 
In  the  bar  who  should  present  himself  but  that  early-bird, 
Tom  Hurley,  already  well  posted  about  the  proposed  Raven 
Run  matter. 

“Jim,  lend  me  your  old,  gray  coat!”  said  Doyle.  “I 
came  off  without  anything  but  a light  one,  an’  I nade  some- 
thin’ somewhat  heavier  ! ” 

“Ye  can  take  it,  in-welcome  ! ” replied  McKenna.  And 
Doyle  put  the  garment  on  and  wore  it  at  the  dining-table. 
It  was  the  same  unfortunate  coat  John  Gibbons  had  donned 
when  starting  upon  the  last  expedition  to  take  off  Wm.  M. 
Thomas.  The  agent  soon  saw  that  the  new  situation  of 
affairs  much  resembled  the  former  in  other  particulars.  Not 
only  had  one  of  the  proposed  murderers  secured  the  loan  of 
his  gray  coat,  but  he  was  himself  so  hampered,  through  the 
close  attendance  of  Hurley  and  others,  that  there  was  no 
opportunity  to  send  a message  of  any  sort  to  Mr.  Franklin,  at 
Philadelphia,  or  to  Linden.  In  fact,  as  concerned  the  where- 
abouts of  the  latter  individual,  he  was  at  the  moment  entirely 
ignorant.  He  might  be  in  Lansford,  looking  after  Jones, 
as  he  had  been  intending,  or  in  Tamaqua,  or  in  Ashland. 
Where  he  was  he  could  not  tell.  But  as  McKenna  was  in  the 
company  of  the  Mollies,  and  could  not  avoid  them  on  any  pre- 
text, however  specious,  it  made  little  difference.  An  attempt 


430 


M0/?£  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


to  send  off  word  by  telegraph  would  be  the  signal  for  sus- 
picion, and  with  men  like  his  companions  a shadow  of  doubt 
was  good  enough  pretext  for  an  assassination.  Hence,  hard 
as  it  really  was,  he  endeavored  to  quell  his  excitement,  ap- 
pear to  enjoy  the  prospect,  and  lend  seeming  countenance 
to  that  against  which  every  thought,  impulse,  and  instinct  of 
his  nature  recoiled. 

Hurley  told  Doyle  that  if  he  went  with  the  O’Donnell 
crowd,  he  would  have  to  act  the  manly  part,  and  perform  his 
whole  duty,  or  they  would  kill  him  as  if  he  were  only  a mad 
dog.  With  this  consoling  remark  the  young  murderer  pro- 
ceeded to  give  Doyle  particular  instructions  in  the  fine  art 
of  assassination,  showing  him  minutely  how  a man  should  be 
killed  and  how  not  killed.  He  accompanied  his  remarks 
with  illustrations,  made  in  his  peculiar  style,  in  the  yard  at- 
tached to  Lawler’s  premises. 

McKenna  and  Hurley,  still  in  company — it  appeared  to 
the  operative  that  he  would  do  almost  anything  to  free  him- 
self from  Tom’s  friendly  and  unconscious  surveillance — 
strolled  about  the  streets  of  the  city,  as  usual  taking  the 
prominent  saloons  in  their  route,  and  finally  encountering 
James,  alias  Friday  O’Donnell — a tall,  slimly-built,  fair-com- 
plexioned  man,  whose  smooth  face,  dark  eyes,  brown  hair 
and  genial  expression  of  countenance,  were  no  indication 
of  the  murderous  passions  slumbering  in  his  being — with 
James  McAllister,  the  latter  a brother-in-law  of  Jack  Kehoe. 
McAllister  was  quickly  photographed  on  the  memory  of  the 
detective.  Some  twenty-four  years  of  age,  of  florid  com- 
plexion, a little  fpeckled,  light  hair  and  mustache,  and  usual- 
ly well  appareled,  he  was  an  average  representative  of  his 
race,  and  by  no  means  unhandsome  in  form  and  figure.  The 
latter  said  that  Chas.  O’Donnell  would  soon  be  through  his 
work  and  had  promised  to  join  them.  Friday  O’Donnell 
carried  two  revolvers,  which  the  agent  saw  were  about  the 
same  size  as  his  own,  bearing  a number  thirty-two  cartridge. 


All  repaired  to  Muff  Laivlet's  residence. 


MOJ^E  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


431 


In  company,  after  Charles  O’Donnell  came,  all  repaired  to 
Muff  Lawler’s  residence. 

While  on  the  way,  McKenna  made  every  excuse  possible 
to  separate  himself  from  Hurley,  who  stuck  to  him  more 
closely  than  Carey  had,  through  the  night  following  the  de- 
parture of  the  men  to  shoot  Wm.  Thomas,  and  finally,  see- 
ing that  all  his  efforts  were  useless,  he  discontinued  them 
and  came  to  the  conclusion  that,  whatever  was  to  be  done, 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  successfully  interfere.  The 
Mollies  must  take  their  course.  His  life  would  pay  the  for- 
feit of  any  indiscreet  word  or  act.  The  news  of  the  intended 
foray  could  not  be  forwarded  to  Philadelphia,  neither  was  it 
possible  to  admonish  the  intended  victim.  There  was  noth- 
ing left  for  him  but  to  endure  the  suspense,  carry  with  him 
the  horrible  thought  that  a man  was  possibly  being  murdered 
in  his  neighborhood,  and  he  impotent  to  warn  or  protect. 
“ Where  is  Linden  ? ” “ What  can  be  keeping  him  ? ” 

“ What  shall  I do  ? ” were  some  of  the  questions  which 
puzzled  his  brain  while  he  was  making  his  way  to  Lawler’s 
house.  When  all  the  men  arrived,  and,  well  prepared  for 
the  deed,  again  left  the  locality  so  as  to  be  e irly  at  Raven 
Run,  the  operative  secretly  hoped  Hurley  would  start  too, 
but  he  did  not.  On  the  contrary,  fastening  himself  more 
closely  to  his  person,  he  marched  arm-in-arm  with  him  to 
Frank  McAndrew’s  place,  and  insisted  upon  treating  to  the 
drinks  for  all  who  gathered  there.  And  this  was  no  small 
number,  as  McAndrew  had  called  a meeting  of  the  leading 
members  of  the  division  for  that  afternoon,  and  they  were 
convening  at  five  o’clock,  so  that  their  business  might  be 
ended  before  nightfall.  The  liquor  once  consumed,  there 
was  no  time  to  spare  until  the  appointed  hour,  and  Hurley 
and  McKenna  entered  the  division  room,  an  upper  chamber 
in  the  building,  in  company.  There  were  only  men  com- 
posing the  inside  ring  of  the  lodge  present.  To  these,  after 
prayer  and  the  usual  opening  ceremonies,  McAndrew  said 


432 


MORE  BOSSES  DOOMED. 


the  time  for  action  had  come.  The  Hibernians  in  other 
places  were  following  the  good  example  set  by  his  branch, 
and  he  must  not  be  idle.  He  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  a boss  named  Reese  must  be  cut  off,  and  reported  he 
had  an  order  from  Kerrigan,  Bodymaster  of  Tamaqua  Divis- 
ion, for  three  men  to  do  an  important  job  at  Summit  Hill. 
Jones  was  to  be  put  out  of  the  way,  and  ‘‘there  must  be  no 
growling  about  it  ! ” Mike  Carey  was  chosen  to  go  and 
assist  in  the  I^ansford  scheme,  but  unqualifiedly  refused. 
McAndrew  was  much  angered,  and  exclaimed  that  such  con- 
duct would  be  punished  as  it  deserved,  when  he  had  more 
time,  and  in  a moment  selected  John  McGrail,  Thomas 
Munley,  and  Mike  Darcey  to  go  to  Tamaqua  and  report  to 
Kerrigan.  As  Munley  lived  at  Cxilberton  and  was  not  pres- 
ent, Ed  Svveeney  was  detailed  to  inform  him  of  the  affair  on 
hand,  and  instruct  him  when  to  start  and  where  to  report. 

“ The  latest  must  not  be  later  than  to-morrow  night  ! ” 
ordered  the  Bodymaster. 

McKenna  was  requested  to  visit  Tamaqua  at  once,  make 
all  right  with  Kerrigan,  deliver  the  men  for  his  job,  and 
secure  those  to  do  for  Reese.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
gained  by  refusal.  He  had  to  go.  The  thought  struck 
him  : “ Here  is  a chance  for  a warning  ! It  is  my  only 
opportunity  ! ” He  promptly  accepted  the  mission  and  at 
once  took  cars  for  Tamaqua.  It  was  a terrible  ordeal,  but 
from  it  there  seemed  to  open  no  avenue  of  escape. 

Here  is  the  situation  : Campbell  striving  to  have  John  P. 
Jones  killed,  and  calling  upon  Kerrigan  for  men  to  do  the 
deed.  McAndrew  to  furnish  these  men  to  Kerrigan,  and 
Kerrigan,  to  make  the  matter  even,  to  repay  in  a batch  of 
assassins  for  the  killing  of  Reese.  Shenandoah  Division  hav- 
ing its  business  transacted  in  the  Sanger  case  by  persons  from 
Girardville,  part  of  the  number  being  relatives  of  Jack  Kehoe. 
McAndrew  was  not  informed — though  McKenna  was,  through 
his  chancing  to  sleep  with  Doyle — of  the  duty  the  O’Donnell 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 


433 


delegation  were  to  perform.  When  the  operative  thoiiglit  over 
the  complications  by  which  he  was  surrounded  he  hardly  knew 
which  thing  to  do  first.  But,  as  soon  as  he  reached  Tama- 
qua,  he  closeted  himself  long  enough  at  the  Columbia  House 
to  indite  a brief  letter  to  Mr.  Franklin,  setting  forth  the 
critical  condition  of  affairs,  and  breathed  somewhat  more 
freely  when  the  dangerous  paper  was  out  of  his  possession, 
safely  deposited  in  the  post-office.  He  had  done  all  he 
could,  but  without  much  hope  that  his  endeavors  would  save 
the  lives  threatened. 


♦ 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 

Leaving  my  agent  in  Tamaqua,  a victim  of  three-fold 
suspense,  I must  now  attempt  to  describe  a double  murder, 
perpetrated  by  the  Mollie  Maguires  at  Raven  Run,  near 
Ashland,  Wednesday,  the  first  of  September,  1875,  ^ little 
more  than  two  weeks  later  than  the  killing  of  Comer  James 
and  Squire  Gwyther.  The  plain  facts  are  here  collected,  as 
given  by  the  detectives,  from  sources  which  are  deemed  re- 
liable. 

As  Hiram  Beninger,  a carpenter  connected  with  the  col- 
liery, was  passing  from  his  house  to  the  breaker,  at  about  six 
o’clock  in  the  morning  of  the  day  mentioned,  he  noticed  two 
men,  apparently  strangers,  sitting  on  some  car  sills  not  far 
from  the  carpenter  shop.  One  wore  a soft  hat  and  the  other 
a cap  with  a broad  velvet  band.  Both  had  their  coat  collars 
turned  up,  as  if  to  protect  them  from  the  chilling  wind,  and 

19 


434 


MURDER  OF  S AUGER  AND  UREU. 


their  positions  on  the  timbers  were  those  of  mere  listlessness, 
as  though  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  working  boss.  It 
was  a common  occurrence  to  see  parties  thus  early  on  the 
ground  to  make  application  for  employment,  and  Beninger 
paid  no  attention  to  these.  But  for  circumstances  imme- 
diately following,  possibly  he  might  never  have  thought  of 
them  again. 

John  Nicolls,  this  same  clear  cool  morning  in  September, 
and  at  about  the  same  hour,  was  walking  on  the  Mammoth  i 
Colliery  road,  or  the  path  leading  to  that  colliery,  when  he  ; 
discovered  three  men,  also  seemingly  new  to  the  neighbor- 
hood, resting  themselves  on  the  trucks  with  which  coal  is  ' 
elevated  from  the  shaft  or  plane.  One  of  the  fresh  arrivals  i 
spoke  pleasantly  to  Nicolls,  saying,  “ Good-morning  ! ” in  a 
low  tone  of  voice,  and,  as  a man  naturally  would,  Nicolls 
politely  returned  the  salutation.  After  passing  these  three  t 
persons,  Nicolls  noticed  two  others,  sitting  just  where  the 
carpenter  had  found  them,  and  Nicolls  walked  within  a yard  * 
of  their  locality.  One  of  the  last-named  persons,  he  remem-  ' 
bered,  wore  a light-colored  soft  hat  and  brown  coat,  and 
looked  closely  in  his  face  as  he  was  going  by.  The  other  had 
on  the  velvet  cap  noticed  by  Beninger.  The  first,  a light- 
complexioned,  heavily-built  man,  spoke  to  Nicolls,  saying  : 
“You  are  going  early  to  your  work!”  Nicolls  answered:  , 
“Yes;  rather  early!”  and  went  on  his  way.  He  recalled 
nothing  particularly  suspicious  in  the  circumstance,  excepting,  ;.| 
as  he  subsequently  remarked,  the  man  having  the  cap  pulled  . 
its  visor  down  over  his  eyes.  Mr.  Nicolls  only  saw  five 
men,  concluded  in  his  mind  that  they  were  travelers,  probably  | 
seeking  work,  and  but  for  subsequent  events  would  soon  have  | 
forgotten  them  altogether.  i 

Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  afterward  Thomas  Sanger,  a boss  , 
in  Heaton  & Co.’s  Colliery,  started  from  his  home  for  the  , j 
scene  of  his  daily  labor,  taking  tender  leave  of  his  wife  at  I 
their  garden  gate,  accompanied  by  Wm.  Ui  en,  who  boarded  I 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 


435 


in  his  family  and  was  also  employed  at  the  same  mining 
works.  Both  bore  their  dinner-cans  in  their  hands. 

Sanger  was  a man  greatly  respected  by  his  neighbors, 
about  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and,  while  he  had  always 
been  firm  in  his  purpose,  and  true  to  his  employers,  had 
failed  to  make  any  enemies,  excepting  among  the  Mollies. 
He  had,  in  his  time,  been  duly  threatened,  but  more  recently 
believed  the  anger  of  his  organized  enemies  was  buried, 
forgotten,  or  appeased.  But  it  proved  a great  mistake. 
Their  murderous  desires  only  slept. 

Sanger  and  his  companion,  who  was  a miner,  had  not 
gone  far  when  they  were  fired  upon  and  both  mortally 
wounded  by  the  same  strange  men  noticed  by  the  carpenter 
and  Atr.  Nicolls.  Beninger  heard  the  shots,  and  rushing 
out,  saw  Robert  Heaton,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  col- 
liery, firing  his  pistol  at  and  running  after  two  of  the  mur- 
derers. He  heard  “ Red  ” Nick  Purcell  call  for  a gun. 
Two  of  the  five  assassins  just  then  stop}:>ed  in  their  retreat  and 
I began  discharging  their  revolvers  at  Heaton,  but  he  was  not 
jhit,  and,  holding  boldly  his  ground,  continued  using  his 
weapon,  apparently  without  effect.  Then  all  of  the  strange 
men  turned  and  ran  quickly  up  the  mountain.  Heaton  fol- 
lowed as  fast  as  he  could,  and  when  he  had  gained  a little 
on  them,  stopped,  and  resting  his  pistol  on  a stump,  to  get 

(steadier  aim,  continued  to  shoot.  Still  none  were  wounded. 
At  least  they  did  not  slacken  their  speed,  but  made  rapidly 
'or  the  heavier  timber  and  soon  disappeared.  Mr.  Nicoll’s 
jihaw  the  same  sight.  It  may  be*  said,  to  his  credit,  that 
Heaton  never  withdrew  from  the  unequal  chase  until  his 
cartridges  were  exhausted  and  the  men  beyond  range  of  his 
Juliets.  Had  any  of  the  several  other  witnesses  of  the 
leed  been  prepared,  and  followed  the  example  of  Heaton, 
he  gang  of  assassins  would  have  been  killed  or  captured. 
Is  it  was,  they  were  not  further  pursued  at  the  moment,  and 
ot  away  before  reason  prevailed  and  preparations  were 


-I 


436 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  VREN. 


made  for  going  on  their  trail.  Then  it  was  too  late.  The 
. game  was  out  of  even  ritle  range. 

After  Sanger  received  his  wound  he  was  taken  to  the 
house  of  a neighbor,  named  Wheevil,  where  every  attention 
was  given  him.  Wm.  Uren,  who  was  also  bleeding  freely, 
was  removed  to  the  same  residence.  The  surgeons  were 
sent  for,  and  Mrs.  Sanger  soon  came  in.  Sanger  lived  but 
a little  while.  When  his  wife  entered  the  room  he  said, 
in  a faltering  voice  : “ Sarah,  come  and  kiss  me ! I am 

dying ! ” involuntarily  echoing  Yost’s  exclamation  under 
similar  circumstances.  Neither  of  the  wounded  men  retained 
consciousness  long  enough  to  give  any  coherent  description 
of  the  manner  in  which  they  had  been  met,  but  there  were 
witnesses  in  plenty,  workmen  going  to  their  labor  and 
others,  who  had  seen  the  entire  transaction. 

Sanger  had  been  three  years  with  Heaton  & Co.,  and 
always  performed  his  duty  faithfully.  He  had  received  two 
gunshot  wounds,  one  through  the  right  forearm,  and  the 
other  in  the  groin,  the  last  severing  the  femoral  artery. 
There  was  no  gleam  of  hope  for  him.  He  bled  to  death  in 
‘a  few  minutes.  Dr.  A.  B.  Sherman,  assisted  by  Doctors 
Yocum  and  Yeomans,  of  Ashland,  did  everything  in  the 
power  of  man,  but  without  avail.  Death  was  inevitable  from 
the  locality  and  extent  of  the  hurt. 

Uren  was  shot  in  the  right  groin,  in  about  the  same  place 
as  Sanger,  an  important  artery  in  his  leg  being  injured.  He 
remained  in  a sort  of  stupor  until  death  ensued,  the  next  day. 

Heaton  was  eating  his  breakfast  when  he  heard  the  firing, 
and  at  once  his  mind  reverted  to  the  men  he  had  seen  sitting 
by  the  carpenter  shop.  There  was  something  peculiar  in 
their  posture,  and  in  the  fact  of  their  hats  being  over  their 
eyes,  and  coat  collars  turned  up.  Believing  they  were  the 
cause  of  the  trouble,  he  seized  his  revolver  and  ran  out. 
The  first  thing  he  encountered  was  Thomas  Sanger,  wounded, 
lying  on  the  ground  by  a stump,  near  the  house,  bleeding 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 


437 


freely,  where  the  murderers  had  left  him  ; still  Szuiger  said  : 
Don’t  stop  for  me,  Bob,  but  give  it  to  them  ! ” Heaton 
caught  sight  of  the  departing  assassins,  and,  as  before 
related,  oj)ened  fire  upon  them,  but  without  effect.  He  had 
a fair  view  of  one  of  the  persons,  when  he  turned  on  his  heel 
and  fired  back  at  him.  But  Mrs.  Williams,  a neighbor  of 
Heaton,  had  a better  opportunity  to  judge  of  the  same  man. 
Her  young  son,  when  he  heard  the  shooting,  was  very  anxious 
to  go  out  and  join  in  Heaton’s  attempt  to  capture  or  kill  the 
assassins.  He  desired  to  do  just  what  the  others  should 
have  done,  but  did  not  do,  and  his  mother,  naturally  fearful 
harm  might  come  to  him,  had,  with  the  assistance  of  her 
daughter,  dragged  the  lad  back  into  the  room  after  he  had 
reached  the  entrance,  which  was  oj)en.  She  threw  her  arms 
around  him  and  effectually  barred  his  progress.  Then  the 
murderer  of  Sanger — having  brought  the  boss  down,  as  he  ran 
for  the  protecting  building,  and  even  stopping  to  turn  him 
over  on  his  back  and  deliberately  fire  a second  shot  into  his 
quivering  and  bleeding  body — with  smoking  pistol  still  in 
hand,  passed  Mrs.  Williams’  door.  While  engaged  in  pre- 
venting her  son’s  exit,  her  mind  filled  with  horror  from  what 
had  already  happened,  and  dread  of  that  which  she  thought 
might  occur,  she  noted  each  feature  of  the  murderer’s  face 
and  every  peculiarity  of  his  form,  as,  with  head  raised  and 
I defiant  air,  he  swung  his  weapon  over  his  head,  walked 
i rapidly  by  her  door  and  up  the  road.  She  said  she  could 
I never  forget  that  man.  His  likeness  haunted  her,  waking 
‘ and  sleeping,  for  many  nights,  and  she  furnished  her  neigh- 
( bors  with  a description  which  was  afterwards  very  valuable. 

I ••••  •••••• 

The  two  men  who  had  accompanied  McKenna  to  Ta- 
maqua,  quite  unfit  for  duty  when  they  reached  their  desti- 
nation, were  put  to  bed  at  Carroll’s — which  place  they  had 
: approached  by  three  several  routes,  by  previous  arrangement 
not  having  spoken  together  on  the  car — very  soon  after  their 


1 


438 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 


arrival.  Drink  had  quite  overpowered  them.  This  left  the 
agent  at  liberty  to  walk  about  and  think  over  the  predica- 
ment he  was  in.  His  nerves  were  not  particularly  braced 
up  by  the  perusal  of  a savage  article  in  the  Shenandoah 
Herald^  recommending  the  formation  by  the  citizens  of  a 
vigilance  committee,  which  should  summarily  rid  the  coun- 
try of  the  Mollie  Maguires.  He  thought  that  such  an  organi- 
zation was  the  one  thing  needful  to  render  his  position  quite 
unendurable.  His  Mollie  friends  merely  laughed  at  it. 
They  said  : “ Let  the  committee  be  appointed  ! If  it  is,  we 
will  then  spare  neither  women,  old  men,  nor  children  ! It 
will  be  war  to  the  knife,  and  the  knife  to  the  throat  ! ” 

This  was  anything  but  cheerful  talk  for  the  Shenandoah 
Secretary,  but  he  was  forced  to  acquiesce  in  it,  however  much 
his  heart  misgave  him.  He  well  knew  that  it  would  be  a 
modern  miracle,  if  such  a combination  was  entered  into, 
should  he  fail  in  becoming  its  first  victim.  No  Mollie 
Maguire  was  better  known.  No  Mollie  was  suspected  of 
having  committed  more  crimes,  and,  meanwhile,  he  was  per- 
fectly innocent.  McKenna  certainly  did  not  favor  a vigi- 
lance committee.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  zealously  op- 
posed to  anything  of  the  sort.  While  thinking  over  these 
unpleasant  things  the  operative  inquired  of  Carroll  where 
Kerrigan  was.  He  pretended  he  did  not  know.  Under 
these  circumstances  it  occurred  to  the  agent  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  send  the  men,  brought  there  to  perform  a murder, 
directly  back  to  their  homes.  In  the  afternoon  he  did  so, 
informing  them  that  he  had  been  unable  to  find  Kerrigan, 
which  was  true,  and  probably  the  Jones  job  had  been  post- 
poned, which  he  did  not  know  to  be  the  fact,  but  which  he 
hoped  might  be  so.  No  sooner  were  his  parties  off  for 
Shenandoah  than  McKenna  set  about  a plan  for  putting 
Linden  and  his  men  in  the  bush  about  Jones’  house,  propos- 
ing to  be  near  himself  and  see  that  the  boss  was  not  hurt. 
After  failing  to  find  Linden  or  Kerrigan,  he  went  to  Carroll’s, 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN.  439 

the  hour  being  about  ten  at  night,  and  luckily  the  saloon- 
keeper was  alone. 

“ Were  the  men  you  had  here  to  go  to  Old  Mines  ? ” 
asked  Carroll. 

“Yes  ! But  as  I couldn’t  run  across  Kerrigan,  they  have 
been  sent  home  ! I can  get  them  again  by  merely  tele- 
graphing McAndrew  to  ‘ send  me  over  a game  chicken  ! ’ 
That’s  the  signal  agreed  upon.  Where  is  that  fellow,  Ker- 
rigan, anyhow?  Sure,  you  ought  to  know  ! ’’ 

“ I’ll  tell  you,  McKenna,”  whispered  Carroll.  “ He  has 
been  off  since  Wednesday,  wid  two  men  from  Mt.  Lafifee, 
air  I’m  after  thinkin’  that,  before  this  time,  all  is  over  in  that 
case!  The  fellows  came  here  wid  a letther  from  Jerry 
Kane,  an’  gave  it  to  me,  an’  I jist  kept  them  inside  until 
Kerrigan  got  in,  which  was  about  nine  at  night,  an’  they  all 
left.  It  wLir  Mike  Doyle  and  Ed  Kelly  that  went  wid  Kerri- 
gan. They  brought  no  arms  along,  so  if  they  wur  arrested 
nothing  would  be  found  on  them  ! Campbell  has  plenty  of 
pistols. 

Here  the  saloon-keeper  had  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  a 
customer  and  McKenna,  completely  bewildered,  walked  out 
of  the  place  and  over  to  his  hotel.  What  was  he  to  do  ? 
The  .probability  was  that  Kerrigan  and  his  men  had  shot 
Junes  that  very  morning.  Where  should  he  find  Linden  ? 
How  should  he  act  ? After  calm  reflection  he  determined 
that  he  could  do  nothing.  If  Jones  had  been  killed,  it  was 
not  possible  to  aid  him.  Everything  had  been  done  that  his 
inventive  mind  suggested  to  notify  and  guard  the  man. 
McKenna  therefore  took  the  cars  and  returned,  heart-sick 
and  despondent,  to  Shenandoah. 

Linden’s  duty  had  called  him  elsewhere,  and  hence  he  can- 
not be  held  at  all  responsible  for  a job  he  thought  amply  pro- 
vided for.  Still  in  doubt  about  Jones’  fate,  it  was  at  Muff 
Lawler’s  house  that  the  operative  learned  the  result  of  the 
expedition  by  Friday  O’Donnell  and  his  men  to  Raven  Run. 


440 


MURDER  OF  SANGER  AND  UREN. 


They  regained  the  outskirts  of  Shenandoah  at  about  eight 
o’clock,  the  morning  of  the  murder,  and  the  crowd,  consisting 
of  Mike  Doyle,  Friday  and  Chas.  O’Donnell,  Thos.  Munley, 
and  Chas.  McAllister,  entered  the  house,  one  by  one,  and 
each  was  made  quickly  comfortable. 

Chas.  McAllister  lived  with  the  O’Donnells  at  Wiggan’s 
Patch,  and  was  married  to  their  sister. 

The  entire  company  were  covered  with  dust  and  perspira- 
tion and  expressed  themselves  as  very  thirsty.  They. cer- 
tainly drank  a great  quantity  of  water,  for  men  whose  usual 
beverage  was  something  stronger,  and  seemed  recently  to 
have  traveled  far  and  fast.  Friday  O’Donnell  made  no  secret 
of  the  scene  all  were  freshly  from,  and  boasted  that  they  had 
made  a clean  sweep  of  it,  and,  while  it  was  the  intention 
only  to  take  off  Sanger,  they  had  killed  another  man,  sup- 
posed to  be  a miner.  He  did  not  know  but  they  had  hurt 
others. 

Chas.  McAllister  exhibited  to  McKenna  a navy  revolver, 
and  said  that  Chas.  O’Donnell  carried  one  of  the  same  size.  , 
].)oyle  wore  the  Smith  & Wesson  he  had  previously  seen, 
and  Friday  O’Donnell  had  two  pistols.  In  Lawler’s  back 
kitchen,  that  morning,  they  talked  over  the  murder  for  an 
hour,  saying  they  had  all  traded  clothing  before  the  shooting, 
and,  after  finishing,  swapped  back  again.  Each  murderer 
took  part  in  the  conversation,  and  related,  in  his  own  way, 
the  share  he  had  taken  in  the  assassination.  Their  reports 
were  not  particularly  at  variance  with  the  facts  as  set  forth 
in  this  chapter,  and  hence  the  reader’s  mind,  already  sick- 
ened with  relation  of  violence  and  bloodshed,  need  not  be 
further  harrowed  up  by  their  repetition  here. 

But  what  were  McKenna’s  feelings  at  this  period  ? To  say 
that  he  was  exceedingly  anxious,  is  a very  weak  expression 
in  which  to  convey  the  mental  experiences  of  that  eventful  : 
day.  With  what  patience  he  could  command,  he  awaited  in- 
formation of  Kerrigan’s  work  at  Lansford. 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


441 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

arrest'  OF  ASSASSINS. 

Quite  a fraternal  feeling  had  existed  between  the  two  men 
murdered  on  the  first  of  September  at  Raven  Run,  Wm. 
j Uren  having  been  a native  of  the  parish  of  Germoe,  Corn- 
I wall,  England,  but  a short  distance  from  Sanger’s  birthplace, 
j He  entered  the  Greatwork  tin  mines  at  the  early  age  of  ten 
i years,  with  his  father,  and  remained  until  about  nineteen, 
j when  he  bid  his  relatives  adieu  and  sailed  for  this  country, 
landing  at  New  York  in  the  fall  of  1872.  After  working 
nearly  a year  at  Dover,  New  Jersey,  he  removed  to  Schuyl- 
kill County  and  was  employed  by  the  Messrs.  Heaton  as  a 
coal  miner.  While  in  England  Uren  was  a regular  attend- 
ant at  church  and  Sabbath-school.  In  Pennsylvania  he  kept 
up  the  same  course,  early  enlisting  as  a teacher  in  a Sun- 
day-school, which  place  he  held  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

' Uren,  with  other  bosses  and  miners,  including  Sanger,  was 
! coffin-noticed  by  the  Mollies  as  early  as  1874,  and  in  conse- 
I quence  Sanger  invited  the  young  man  to  board  at  his  house. 

I They  soon  formed  an  intimate  and  enduring  friendship.  The 
I winter  of  1875  ^.nd  following  summer,  to  the  day  of  the 
I assassination,  passing  peaceably  and  without  any  apparent 
j attempt  to  carry  out  the  promises  of  the  organization,  as  far 
as  he  and  Sanger  were  concerned,  Uren  began  to  believe 
j all  danger  passed  or  blown  over.  They  thought  nothing 
would  actually  be  done.  Thus  had  it  always  been.  No 
sooner  did  a threatened  man  come  to  the  understanding  that 
^ his  life  was  perfectly  safe,  than,  in  this  very  peculiar  country 
and  with  this  very  peculiar  class  of  people,  he  was,  as  too 
! many  cases  proved,  in  the  e.xact  position  to  prepare  for  Icav- 
19* 


442 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


ing  this  world,  for  the  fiends  incarnate  causing  all  the  trouble 
in  the  coal  region  were  abundantly  capable  of  waiting  for 
any  length  of  time,  keeping  their  wrath  warm  and  ])ouring  it, 
at  any  unsuspected  moment,  upon  the  devoted  heads  of  their 
victims.  Therefore,  Uren,  when  set  upon,  was  no  better  pre- 
pared to  defend  himself  against  the  power  of  his  enemies  than 
his  friend,  Sanger.  There  was  nothing  that  either  could  possi- 
bly do  but  to  stand  up  like  men  before  the  deadly  pistols 
and  be  shot  cruelly  down. 

A more  sorrowful  scene  than  that  enacted  around  the 
couch  of  the  dying  Uren  was  never  witnessed.  His  fellow- 
countryman,  Sanger,  was  already  gone.  It  was  not  long 
before  he  followed.  The  funeral  of  the  two  men,  like  their 
murder,  was  a double  one,  and  both  were  buried  in  the  same 
grave.  The  parents  of  Wm.  Uren  are  yet  living  in  England, 
with  four  sisters  and  five  brothers.  They  receive  no  more 
assistance  from  their  dutiful  son  and  brother.  They  know 
their  main  help  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  has  been  cut  off  by 
the  bullet  of  the  assassin. 

McKenna  was  again  in  Shenandoah  when  he  received  a 
note  from  Linden  informing  him  of  certain  remarks  that  per- 
son had  heard  made  by  a citizen  of  Tamaqua  concerning  the 
Secretary.  They  were  not  exactly  the  kind  of  words  gener- 
ally causing  a man  to  feel  more  secure  of  or  harbor  firmer 
belief  in  his  personal  safety.  Said  T^inden  in  his  letter: 

“ A citizen  by  the  name  of  Boyd  remarked  to  me  to-day 
that  the  only  chance  for  an  excitement  in  dull  Tamaqua  was 
when  that  man  with  the  big  head  (alluding  to  the  wig,  I 
suppose)  and  blue  coat  came  upon  the  street.  Then  peo- 
ple began  to  say  to  each  other,  ‘ What  a shame  that  such  a 
fellow  (this  means  you,  McParlan)  is  allowed  to  live  ! He 
ought  to  be  strung  up  !’  You  need  to  keep  a sharp  look- 
out, wherever  you  are,  for  about  everybody  here  is  thinking 
that  you  are  a suspicious  fellow  generally  and  a particularly 
bad  Mollie  ! ” 


ARREST  OF  ASS  ASS/NS. 


443 


This  was  not  very  inspiriting  information  for  the  officer  to 
receive,  and,  the  next  day,  was  siipi)lemented  by  the  follow- 
ing, showing  that  Linden  had  called  at  Shenandoah  and  not 
been  able  to  hnd  or  communicate  with  his  fellow-operative  : 

“ I was  in  conversation,  yesterday,  with  several  influential 
men,  and  it  was  the  universal  expression  that  all  would 
soon  have  to  emigrate  or  make  the  Mollies  leave.  They 
talked  vigilance  committee  very  earnestly.  One  of  the 
party  asked  another  if  ‘that  fellow,  McKenna,  was  about  the 
city  yet  ? ’ He  replied  ‘ yes  ! ’ Then  said  the  first  speaker  : 
‘ That  is  the  smartest  business  man  of  the  society  ! He  has 
the  best  head  and  does  the  most  work  ; in  short,  is  the  most 
dangerous  scamp  among  them  ! ’ You  will  observe  that  my 
former  recommendation  is  enforced  by  this.  Look  sharp  ! 
Don’t  be  imprudent ! Have  an  eye  out  for  breakers,  day 
and  night ! ” 

A wayfaring  man  has,  before  this,  perused  letters  of  a 
more  calming  and  conciliatory  tenor.  Indeed  McKenna 
remembered  hiiving  read  passages,  even  in  yellow-covered 
romances  of  the  blood-and-thunder  style  of  literature,  which, 
torturingly  bad  as  they  were,  gave  him  much  more  unalloyed 
pleasure  than  those  two  missives  from  Linden.  Yet  he  was 
thankful  to  their  author  for  them.  His  intentions  were  good, 
and  his  recommendations  among  the  best  that  could  be  made. 

Here  there  arose  another  apparent  conflict  between  duty 
and  inclination.  The  first  said : “ Stay  here  and  procure 
testimony  which  shall  punish  the  assassins.”  The  second 
chimed  in  with  a broad  hint  to  pack  up  his  clothing  and 
other  goods,  purchase  a ticket  for  Chicago,  and  hasten  away 
toward  the  setting  sun.  McParlan  thought  he  had  but  just 
commenced  his  work.  It  would  be  time  for  him  to  desert 
the  post  if  forced  to  do  so,  or  when  Mr.  Franklin  might  deem 
his  duty  in  the  country  quite  complete.  In  any  event,  he 
concluded  to  stay  some  time  longer,  even  though  the  wishes 
of  the  citizens  of  Tamaqua  and  Shenandoah  might  be  exe- 


444 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


ciited.  He  knew  that,  if  the  excited  people  of  the  vicinity 
could  only  be  aware  of  his  true  purposes,  they  would  willingly 
carry  him  in  their  arms,  or  draw  him  in  a carriage,  shielding 
him  from  harm  with  their  own  bodies  ; and  this  inward  con- 
sciousness of  rectitude,  which  buoyed  him  through  many 
a stormy  day  in  the  years  he  had  been  in  my  service,  kept 
his  head  above  water  and  steadied  his  nerves  while  he  con- 
tinued his  professional  work.  He  knew  that,  if  he  lived  yet  a 
little  longer,  the  residents  of  Schuylkill,  Carbon,  Columbia, 
and  Imzerne  Counties  would  praise  and  bless  him.  If  he 
died,  they  would  discover  that  his  life  was  sacrificed  that  they, 
and  generations  to  them  yet  unborn,  might  have  and  enjoy 
protection  from  the  Mollie  Maguires,  under  the  law,  and 
secure  immunity  from  the  black  dragon  which  for  a score  of 
years  had  made  their  land  a terror  and  a shame  in  the 
nation. 

These  and  similar  ideas  were  passing  through  the  brain  of 
McKenna,  the  afternoon  of  the  third  of  September,  1875, 
when  the  perusal  of  the  evening  newspaper  confirmed  his 
worst  fears.  John  P.  Jones  was  added  to  the  long  list  of 
victims  of  the  mysterious  society.  He  had  been  shot  that 
morning.  The  operative  soon  learned  the  principal  facts 
connected  with  this  assassination  and  embodied  them  in  a 
report  to  the  Agency. 

John  P.  Jones  left  his  house,  which  was  in  Lansford  and 
contained  his  wife  and  seven  children,  at  about  seven  o’clock 
in  the  morning,  bound  for  the  breaker  where  he  was  em- 
ployed, carrying  his  dinner-pail  in  his  hand,  and  following 
the  pipe-line  toward  the  old  railway  embankment,  which  he 
had  been,  by  Mr.  Zehner,  Mr,  Beard,  and  others,  repeatedly 
urged  not  to  take,  as  they  were  aware  that  his  life  was 
by  no  means  safe.  He  felt,  like  Sanger  and  Uren,  entirely 
satisfied  that  the  Mollies,  who  had  so  long  been  confronting 
him,  were  of  a more  forgiving  nature  than  the  public  credited 
them  with  beinsr.  or  that  their  desire  for  his  blood  had  been 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


445 


satiated  by  the  several  recent  sacrifices.  Instead  of  heeding 
advice,  and  extracting  warning  .from  the  deaths  lately  oc- 
curring, and  using  a locomotive  to  carry  him  up  and  down 
the  line,  as  he  could  easily  have  done,  or  even  refusing  to 
work  unless  some  such  course  was  observed,  he  put  his 
revolver  in  his  pocket  and  went  off  cheerfully  to  what 
proved  his  last  journey. 

The  assassins,  James  Kerrigan,  Mike  Doyle,  and  Edward 
Kelly,  were  waiting  for  him.  *He  saw  them  not,  but  con- 
tinued his  walk  as  though  nothing  more  than  usual  stood 
before  him.  Not  a premonition  of  impending  evil;  not  a 
thought  of  coming  death  ; not  a glance  around,  to  see  if 
the  cowardly  assassin  was  in  ambush  prepared  to  kill  him. 

But  they  were  there,  lying  in  wait,  Kerrigan,  as  usual, 
standing  at  a little  distance  and  wholly  unarmed.  Jones  left 
his  home  by  a rear  door  and  moved  down  the  pipe-line. 
When  the  trio  of  murderers  reached  the  top  of  the  path, 
he  was  some  yards  from  the  same  position.  He  heard 
their  footsteps  and  turned  aside,  patiently  pausing  for  the 
others  to  pass.  Still  not  a suspicion  could  have  crossed  his 
mind  that  he  stood  at  the  gateway  of  death.  The  men  had 
no  intention  of  permitting  him  to  obtain  a hint  of  their 
design.  They  halted,  when  close  to  him,  and  then  Doyle 
and  Kelly  drew  their  pistols  and  fired  on  Jones.  Each  dis- 
charged one  shot.  Their  victim  made  a spasmodic  blow  at 
his  assailants  with  the  tin  dinner-pail,  when  Doyle  fired 
again.  Turning  off  toward  the  bushes,  Jones  ^raised  his 
hands  and  cried  out:  “I’m  shot!  I’m  shot!”  In  a 

moment  he  fell  forward  upon  his  face.  After  this,  Doyle 
fired  two  more  bullets  into  his  already  riddled  body.  The 
Superintendent  had  not  time  to  draw  or  think  of  a weapon, 
and  in  a few  minutes  the  life  of  the  man  was  ended.  His 
heart  beat  no  more.  While  Doyle  was  finishing  the  savage 
job,  his  companions  were  running  away  across  the  moun- 
tains. The  reports  of  the  pistols  brought^  many  workmen 


446 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSIN'S. 


on  the  railroad  to  the  spot,  and  Jones’  corpse  was  immedi- 
ately taken  to  his  home.  Several  persons  had  seen  the 
assassins  retreating  over  the  hill,  and  one  man  was  so  near 
them  as  to  be  frightened,  thinking  his  turn  to  be  shot  would 
come  next.  He  made  rapid  progress  in  placing  himself  out 
of  harm’s  way. 

The  citizens  of  Tamaqua  were  not  long  in  ignorance  of 
the  incidents  attending  the  killing  of  Jones,  and  the  excite- 
ment, which  before  had  risen  to  a high  pitch,  reached  the 
verge  of  general  madness.  People  procured  arms  and  went 
upon  the  streets  in  numbers.  Men,  women,  and  boys  were 
aroused,  and  everybody  appeared  intent  upon  arresting  or 
killing  somebody.  The  Mollie  Maguires  alone  kept  quiet. 
Finally  it  was  discovered,  by  some  one  who  had  been  quietly 
following  the  little  miner  since  the  killing  of  Yost,  that 
James  Kerrigan  was  away  from  his  home.  Silently  and 
doggedly  a few  persons  kept  watch  over  his  house.  Early 
in  the  forenoon  he  returned,  remained  but  a short  time,  and 
was  shortly  afterward  seen  to  start  out  with  a small  bundle 
in  his  hand,  and,  sticking  from  one  pocket,  a flask  of  liquor. 
Cautiously  the  men  kept  on  his  trail  and  tracked  him  until 
he  reached  a spring  where  Doyle  and  Kelly  were  waiting. 
He  had  no  more  than  time  to  give  them  the  refreshments, 
when  the  three  Mollies,  evidently  warned  by  a preconcerted 
signal  from  Carroll,  who  walked  along,  making  himself  con- 
spicuous upon  the  railway  track,  started  to  run.  But  the 
people  confronted  and  soon  captured  them.  They  had  no 
arms  about  their  persons,  and  when  examined  at  the -jail 
only  some  cartridges  were  found  in  their  pockets.  A little 
later,  however,  some  officers,  while  making  a search,  un- 
earthed three  pistols  and  a heavy  club,  secreted  under  the 
trees  in  the  leaves  near  the  spring.  The  sheriff,  the  next  day, 
escorted  Kerrigan,  Kelly,  and  Doyle  to  Mauch  Chunk,  where 
they  were  committed  to  prison,  to  await  trial,  the  crime 
having  been  committed  in  Carbon  County. 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


447 


The  supposed  murderers  were  in  a safe  place.  Was  there 
testimony  upon  which  they  could  be  convicted  ? It  was 
doubtful.  They  were  unquestionably  the  guilty  parties,  and 
might  be  well  identified  as  far  as  descriptions  went,  but  the 
actual  witnesses  were  standing  at  such  a distance  from  the 
scene  it  was  possible  that  a jury,  especially  without  having 
corroborating  evidence,  might  be  deceived  and  fail  to  find 
sufficient  fact  to  warrant  conviction. 

One  good  eftect,  at  least,  was  produced  by  the  arrest  of 
the  three  Mollies.  The  remainder  of  the  members  of  the 
order  were,  for  the  time,  struck  dumb.  Their  hands  were 
powerless.  They  could  perform  no  further  acts  of  violence, 
for  fear  of  prejudicing  the  interests  of  their  brothers  then  in 
custody.  Peace  would  be  assured,  at  least  until  the  trials 
could  take  place.  But  that  the  defendants  would  be  sworn 
clear  by  the  oaths  of  the  fraternity  few  were  found  to  doubt. 

As  in  one  of  the  earlier  murders  of  the  year,  the  killing 
of  Jones  was,  by  many  innocent  and  well-meaning  but  unin- 
formed people,  charged  upon  my  detective,  James  McPar- 
Ian,  alias  McKenna.  I do  not  allude  to  this  censoriously. 
They  did  not  know  what  they  were  doing,  and  were  judging 
from  outward  appearances  alone.  Seeing  him,  fora  series  of 
years,  the  associate  of  murderers,  thieves,  and  Mollies,  and 
apparently  the  toughest  man  among  them,  it  was  no  more 
than  reasonable  they  .should  suppose  him  really  one  of  their 
number  and  a leader  in  many  of  their  criminal  works.  Mr. 
Reese,  of  Shenandoah,  whose  life  the  operative  had  just 
been  the  means  of  preserving,  sent  word,  on  the  tenth  of 
September,  a week  subsequent  to  Jones’  taking  off,  that 
he  desired  to  see  Mr.  Linden.  When  they  met,  Reese  told 
my  officer  that  an  Irishman  named  McKenna  was  supposed 
to  have  originated,  planned,  and  assisted  in  executing  the 
crime,  concluding  with  the  death  of  John  P.  Jones,  of  Lans- 
ford.  He  added  that,  so  well  were  the  good  people  of 
Tamaqua  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  this  assumption,  though 


448 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


they  were  without  a particle  of  positive  evidence,  he,  Mr. 
Reese,  had  no  doubt,  if  McKenna  appeared  in  the  town, 
they  would  turn  out  in  hundreds  and  hang  him  to  the  near- 
est tree.  This  state  of  feeling  exhibits  the  closeness  with 
which  the  operative  was  doing  his  work,  and  is  another  evi- 
dence of  his  skill.  The  reader  who  has  followed  me  thus  far 
can  tell  how  entirely  void  of  all  criminal  act  or  intent  the 
record  of  that  officer  had  been.  The  public  now  knows  that 
he  was  laboring,  even  at  the  risk  of  losing  iiis  own  life,  to 
clear  the  country  of  those  who  had  for  years  been  perpetrat- 
ing crimes  of  blood  in  the  anthracite  region.  It  understands 
that  he  went  there  for  a purpose,  and  I hope  to  be  able 
to  show,  before  the  close  of  this  volume,  that  he  was  emi- 
nently successful  in  his  undertaking. 

This  feeling,  on  the  part  of  the  deadly  enemies  of  the 
Mollie  Maguires,  that  McKenna  was  the  deepest  and  most 
guilty  man  in  that  wicked  organization,  is  an  evidence  of  the 
discretion  and  tact  the  detective  had  continually  exercised. 
Without  seeming  to  be  fully  in  sympathy  with  and  inside  the 
order,  without  an  apparent  acquiescence  in  its  doings,  his 
task  would  have  been  abortive.  It  was  this  confidence  on 
the  part  of  good  people  that  he  was  a very  bad  man,  and 
the  belief  on  the  side  of  the  Mollies  that  he  was  as  hard  and 
as  bloody  a character  as  even  Tom  Hurley,  Yellow  Jack 
Donahue,  or  Jemmy  Kerrigan,  that  gave  witness  of  his 
standing  and  efficiency  as  a secret  detective.  The  mere 
suspicion,  by  the  fraternity,  that  he  might  possibly  be  other 
than  the  party  he  affected  to  be  would  surely  have  been 
seized  upon  as  the  signal  for  his  death. 

Despite  his  apprehensions,  which  were  more  excited  by 
the  promised  formation  in  the  coal  region  of  a vigilance 
committee  than  by  the  information  just  recorded,  or  the 
idea  that  his  identity  would  be  revealed  to  his  companions, 
the  agent  stuck  courageously  to  his  verbal  contract  with  me  ; 
did  not  desert  his  post,  but,  stopping  for  a time  in  Shenan- 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


449 


doah,  busied  himself,  as  before,  in  keeping  inside  the  inner 
sanctuary  of  the  infernal  society  with  which  he  was  con- 
nected. He  thought  occasionally  of  going  to  Tamaqua  and 
resuming  his  attentions  to  Kerrigan’s  wife’s  sister,  and  even- 
tually did  so,  but  for  the  few  days  following  the  assassination 
at  Lansford  he  was  almost  continually  in  the  company  of 
Thomas  Hurley  and  the  rest  of  the  Shenandoah  branch. 
Hurley  was  fairly  famishing  for  more  blood.  He  had  not 
done,  and  could  not  do,  enough.  The  scent  of  gore  had 
fallen  on  his  senses  and  he  longed  for  another  draught. 
One  day  he  said  to  McKenna  : 

“ 1 tell  you,  Jim,  so  long  as  there  is  a pot  over  the  fire, 
the  fire  must  be  kept  to  it  !” — meaning  that,  as  the  era  of 
murders  had  begun,  it  must  be  continued.  The  inventive 
genius  of  Hurley  was  constantly  on  the  stretch,  manufactur- 
ing cases  in  which  the  pistol  might  be  used  with  effect.  This 
was  one  reason,  undoubtedly,  that  McAndrew  took  it  into 
his  head  to  have  Reese  put  out  of  the  path.  McKenna  was 
the  cause  of  the  signal  failure  of  that  scheme. 

In  one  of  the  operative’s  reports  for  this  date,  he  wrote, 
evidently  feeling  exactly  and  keenly  the  sentiment  that  his 
pen  expressed  : 

“I  am  sick  and  tired  of  this  thing  ! I seem  to  make  no 
progress,  and  the  terrible  and  'long-continued  state  of  excite- 
ment in  the  town  and  the  country  around  here  will  one  day 
end  in  something  more  fearful  than  has  yet  occurred.  I hear 
of  preparations  for  bloodshed  in  all  directions.  The  sun 
looks  crimson  to  me,  and  the  air  is  tainted  with  the  smell 
of  blood.  We  must  do  something  to  stop  the  sanguinary 
whirlwind  that  bids  fair  to  destroy  everything ! ” 

Long  before  this  I had  arrived  at  a similar  conclusion.  A 
crisis  in  the  operation  had  arrived  which  demanded  immedi- 
ate, masterly  work.  Therefore,  Mr.  Franklin  met  Linden 
in  Pottsville,  the  ninth  of  September,  and  McKenna  was 
directed  to  communicate  with  them  at  the  same  place.  He 


450 


ARREST  OF  ASSASSINS. 


had  little  difficulty  in  cutting  loose  from  his  associates,  say- 
ing that  he  was  forced  to  visit  an  adjoining  town  to  meet  his 
princij)al  in  the  bogus  money  business,  and,  after  promising 
that  he  would  only  be  absent  a few  days,  took  cars  by  a 
roundabout  route  and  reached  Pottsville  the  same  night, 
making  sure  that  no  doubts  of  the  object  of  his  mission  had 
been  aroused  in  the  minds  of  the  Mollies,  and  that  none  of 
the  order  were  following  him. 

Affairs  had  reached  the  pass  that  Linden  was,  in  some 
places,  known  as  my  representative  in  the  coal  fields.  It  was 
brought  about  by  one  of  my  open  policemen  unfortunately 
shooting  a man  who  acted  suspiciously  and  also  being  him- 
self wounded.  O’Brien  was  arrested,  tried,  and  in  due  time 
acquitted.  Linden  acted  as  his  friend  and  counselor,  and 
thus  revealed  his  connection  with  the  Agency.  It  was  time, 
however,  the  season  being  ripe  for  the  act.  Linden  and 
McKenna  must  not  be  known  to  communicate  with  each 
other.  Any  attempt  to  do  so  which  would  be  seen  by  the 
Mollies  must  serve  as  an  excuse  for  the  agent’s  execution. 
It  was  as  much  as  his  life  was  worth  to  be  found  with  either 
Linden  or  Franklin.  Still  a meeting  was  necessary,  and  he 
did  not  falter.  Putting  up  at  a smaller  house,  McParlan 
went,  after  darkness  set  in,  to  the  Exchange  Hotel,  where 
he  knew  Linden  had  his  apartment,  found  that  officer  at 
home,  and  there  remained,  locked  in  the  sleeping-chamber, 
until  Mr.  Franklin  came.  The  three  men  held  a very  long 
and  interesting  conversation,  during  which  our  plans  for  the 
future  were  discussed.  The  operative  detailed  all  that  he 
knew  of  the  Gomer  James,  Sanger  and  Uren,  and  Jones 
murders,  aside  from  his  written  reports,  of  all  of  which  Mr. 
Franklin  made  extended  notes.  He  also  answered  such 
inquiries  respecting  names  and  localities  as  were  put. 
McKenna  was  kept  in  the  room  through  the  night,  or  until 
nearly  morning,  when  he  left  and  repaired  to  his  own  board- 
ing-place, not  appearing  on  the  streets  again  until  the  Super- 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


451 


intendent  had  left  for  Philadelphia  and  Linden  was  far  away, 
I going  toward  the  scene  of  his  future  operations  in  Carbon 
County. 

In  a day  or  two  McKenna  was  summoned  to  Philadelphia, 
thence  traveled  to  New  York,  and  had  a meeting  with  Gen- 
eral Superintendant  Geo.  H.  Bangs.  The  result  of  the  jour- 
ney the  ensuing  pages  will  explain. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 

It  should  have  been  mentioned  that,  on  the  sixteenth  of 
August,  James  Riles,  of  Shenandoah,  was  attacked  by  a 
crowd  of  Mollies,  headed  by  Charles  McAllister,  Ned  Mona- 
ghan, and  Tobin,  while  sitting  on  the  steps  of  his  own  dwell- 
in«:.  Mr.  Glover  was  near  him  at  the  time.  Riles  was  not 
mortally  wounded,  though  his  life,  for  several  weeks,  hung  as 
upon  a thread,  and  his  health  is  still  much  broken  because 
of  the  injuries  he  received.  . A man  named  Delaney  was 
another  eye-witness  of  the  outrage,  but  could  do  nothing  to 
stop  its  progress.  It  was  about  nine  o’clock  at  night  when 
three  men  came  suddenly  up  to  Riles  and  put  their  pistols  to 
his  back.  Immediately  the  victim  felt  a stinging  sensation 
running  through  him  and  knew  he  was  hit.  Regaining  his 
feet  he  ran  up  Delaney’s  steps,  closely  tracked  by  the  Mol- 
lies. It  seemed  to  him  there  was  a great  mob  pursuing,  and 
he  flew  through  his  neighbor’s  house  as  fast  as  he  could, 
J jumped  out  of  the  window,  not  knowing  what  he  was  doing, 
^ striking  heavily  agains.t  the  hard  street  below,  and  received 
injuries  which,  added  to  the  effects  of  the  bullet,  made  him 
faint  and  almost  unconscious.  When  Riles  was  lying  in  the 


452 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


road  the  crowd  cried  : “ Shoot  him  ! shoot  him  ! ” But  he 
managed  to  crawl  into  the  residence  of  Wm.  Kendrick,  who 
])rotected  him,  finally  saving  his  life.  Thence  he  had 
to  be  taken  by  the  members  of  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police. 
Before  their  arrival,  however,  the  Mollies  surrounded  Ken- 
drick’s house  and  excitedly  demanded  possession  of  Riles, 
saying  : “ Give  him  to  us  ! Give  him  to  us  ! ” One  timid 
citizen  who  was  present  tried  to  persuade  Kendrick  to  com- 
ply, urging  that  the  crowd  would  have  him,  in  the  end,  and 
if  troubled  in  their  fierce  pursuit  of  blood  might  do  violence 
to  the  family  of  his  brave  preserver.  Kendrick  flatly  re- 
fused to  pursue  any  such  course  and  resolutely  stood  by  the 
wounded  and  supposed-to-be  dying  man.  For  several  days 
Mr.  Riles  was  supposed  to  be  near  death’s  door,  but  subse- 
quently recovered  sufficiently  to  escape  to  Philadelphia. 
There  he  was  forced  to  remain  in  the  hospital  until  restored 
to  partial  health.  At  the  risk  of  his  life,  he  then  returned  to 
Shenandoah,  sold  his  homestead  and  other  property,  and  emi- 
grated to  Illinois.  He  had  seen  enough  of  the  Mollies. 
Among  his  late  assailants  he  recognized  Ned  Monaghan  and 
others,  but  was  unable  to  swear  to  the  men  who  actually 
fired  upon  him.  Riles  kept  a saloon,  and  had  incurred  the 
displeasure  of  the  gang  in  some:  way  unknown  to  himself. 

The  murder  of  Geo.  K.  Smith,  already  briefly  alluded  to, 
which  occurred  at  Audenried,  Carbon  County,  the  night  of 
Thursday,  November  5,  1863,  was  totally  unprovoked.  Mr. 
G.  W.  Ulrich,  now  employed  by  Messrs.  Wanamaker  and 
Brown,  of  Philadelphia,  but  then  a clerk  for  Mr.  Smith,  gives 
the  following  condensed  statement  of  the  incidents  connected 
with  the  atrocious  crime  : 

“ The  night  of  the  murder  I had  just  returned  from  Mauch 
Chunk.  I got  home  about  half-past  six  p.m.  I boarded  at 
Smith’s  house.  When  I went  down  to  supper,  I told  Smith 
I thought  something  serious  was  going  to  happen.  He 
asked  me  why.  I replied  because  of  what  George  Allen  had 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE, 


453 


said  about. havdng  heard  that  the  night  of  that  day  was  to  be 
the  greatest  ever  known  in  Audenried,  and  because,  during 
the  afternoon,  several  men  were  noticed  prowling  around 
there,  going  about  in  different  directions,  and,  on  the  even- 
ing before,  there  were  others  in  the  store  for  powder.  Mr. 
Smith  laughed  and  said  : ‘ Mr.  Ulrich,  they  wont  hurt  you 
or  me  ! ’ 1 stayed  at  Smith’s  house  that  night,  at  the  request 

of  Mrs.  Smith,  because  her  husband  was  unwell.  About  five 
minutes  before  eight  o’clock,  hearing  a rap  at  the  door,  I, 
upon  opening  it,  found  standing  there  a man  whom  I thought 
to  be  a Welshman  named  Evan  Jones.  Asking  him  to  stay 
outside  until  I put  the  dog  away,  I shut  the  door,  took  the 
animal  by  the  collar  and  put  him  in  the  parlor,  where  Mrs. 
Smith  was.  Then  I went  back,  opened  the  door,  and  when 
I did  so  a tall  man,  with  a soldier’s  overcoat  on,  stepped  in, 
and  the  one  1 took  to  be  Evan  Jones  followed.  As  soon  as 
I saw  his  face  I found  it  was  not  Evan  Jones.  The  taller 
person  asked  if  Mr.  Smith  was  in.  I at  first  said  ‘ no,’  but 
afterward  told^  him  he  was  in,  ‘and  very  sick  at  that.’  He 
professed  to  have  a letter  for  Smith,  that  a man  had  given 
him  in  Mauch  Chunk  the  same  afternoon.  I told  him  if  he 
would  give  it  to  me  1 could  hand  it  to  Mr.  Smith.  He 
would  not  do  that,  as  he  said  he  was  instructed  to  deliver  it 
personally.  I then  left  the  room  and  told  Mrs.  Smith.  She 
went  up  and  saw  the  sick  man,  and  he  replied  if  the  person 
could  not  deliver  the  letter  to  her,  he  must  wait  until  the  next* 
day.  Mrs.  Smith  and  I returned  to  the  room  where  the  two 
men  were  sitting.  She  told  them  what  Smith  had  said.  The 
man  answered  : ‘ If  I can’t  deliver  it  to  him  I must  deliver 
it  to  you  ! ’ He  quickly  put  his  hand  to  his  back,  and  the 
first  tiling  I saw  was  the  butt-end  of  a Colt’s  revolver.  Be- 
fore he  got  it  out  altogether  it  went  off,  and  his  clothes 
caught  fire,  the  ball  penetrating  the  floor  on  which  we  were 
standing.  When  the  revolver  was  discharged  Mrs.  Smith 
cried  out  : ‘ Oh,  my  God  ! ’ and  ran  precipitately  into  the 


454 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


library.  Then  the  tall  man  cauglit  me  around  the  neck  and 
the  smaller  man  commenced  beating  me  on  my  head  and 
on  the  back  of  my  shoulders  with  a billy.  The  tall  man 
got  his  revolver  out  and  put  it  to  the  side  of  my  head.  I 
threw  up  my  left  hand  and  the  pistol  went  off,  and  the  pow- 
der flew  into  my  eyes  and  blinded  me  so  that  I could  not 
see  for  some  time.  By  this  some  fifteen  or  twenty  persons 
had  walked  into  the  room  where  we  were.  The  majority 
were  disguised  in  soldiers’  overcoats  and  in  miners’  clothes. 
They  crowded  over  against  the  wall,  and  the  tall  man  tried 
to  shoot  me  again  in  the  head.  Once  more  I threw  up  my 
arm  and  the  pistol  ball  passed  over  me.  Another  man 
stooped  down  behind  me,  on  his  knees,  and  put  his  pistol  to 
my  person  and  shot  me  in  the  leg  while  I was  held  by  the 
other.  I then  broke  away  from  the  crowd,  with  the  intention 
of  going  upstairs.  They  followed  me  too  closely,  however, 
and  I could  not  get  clear.  As  I reached  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  Mr.  Smith  came  down  and  walked  into  the  room 
where  the  men  were.  I went  to  the  hall  door  and  they 
knocked  me  down  and  fired  two  shots  over  me  with  the  inten- 
tion of  hitting  my  body.  After  this,  I turned  around  to  find 
if  I could  see  anything,  and  saw  Mr.  Smith  standing  by  the 
crowd.  A man  came  up  behind  him,  put  a pistol  to  his 
head,  and  fired.  He  fell  dead  upon  the  carpet.  After  finish- 
ing this,  they  fired*  three  or  four  shots,  and  I thought  they 
were  shooting  Mr.  Smith’s  dead  body,  but  they  fired  them  at 
Mrs.  Smith’s  sister,  who  was  in  the  room  adjoining.  This  is 
all  I know,  excepting  that  the  others  escaped.” 

No  present  arrests  were  made.  ^Nobody  could  tell  who 
the  murderers  were,  excepting  that  they  belonged  to  the 
Mollie  Maguires,  or  had  been  set  on  and  were  accompanied 
by  those  suspected  of  forming  that  clan.  When,  some  time 
after,  suspected  parties  were  captured,  a mob  released  them 
from  Mauch  Chunk  prison. 

The  work  performed  by  McKenna  while  in  New  York 


/ man  came  up  behind  him^  put  a pistol  to  his  heady  and  Jired^ 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


455 


and  Philadelphia  was  very  important  and  constituted  a por- 
tion of  the  first  really  aggressive  acts  of  the  Agency  against 
the  formidable  foe.  It  consisted  in  the  preparation  of  classi- 
fied and  carefully  arranged  lists  of  all  the  Mollies,  or  mem- 
bers of  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians,  in  Luzerne,  North- 
umberland, Columbia,  Carbon,  and  Schuylkill  Counties, 
their  residence,  occupation,  standing  in  the  society,  and 
crimes  they  had  been  connected  with.  When  completed, 
the  schedule  was  given  very  extensive  circulation  through- 
out the  United  States,  by  publication  in  the  principal  news- 
papers. It  was  but  the  prelude  of  the  thunderbolt  which 
was  soon  to  cast  consternation  into  the  hearts  of  the  leaders 
of  the  society.  Our  plans  were  formed  for  unrelenting  and 
unending  warfare  upon  them.  They  had  for  years  carried 
everything  unresistingly  before  them,  but  now  a force,  the 
secret  emissaries  of  which  for  nearly  three  years  had  been 
ferreting  out  and  marking  their  weak  places,  meanwhile 
sharpening  and  charging  their  own  weapons  for  use,  was  to 
put  its  potent  machinery  suddenly  in  motion.  Fresh  detec- 
tives were  sent  to  the  support  of  those  already  on  the 
ground,  unknown  to  the  others,  and  every  available  adjunct 
that  ingenuity  could  devise  and  money  and  influence  supply 
was  set  at  work  to  accomplish  the  defeat  of  the  thus  far  un- 
opposed and  victorious  Mollie  Maguires. 

Meanwhile  the  order  was  as  active  as  a hive  of  bees,  no 
longer  forcibly  aggressive,  but  moving  purely  in  self-defense. 
Their  long  day  of  murder  had  set  in  crimson,  and  the  day 
of  their  abnegation  and  shame  was  at  the  dawn.  Money  was 
raised  for  the  legal  expenses  of  the  prisoners.  Evidence  was 
hunted  up  to  falsify  the  truth  and  swear  them  clear.  But  on 
the  track  of  the  brewers  of  this  testimony  was  the  stealthy 
tread  of  a man  they  knew  but  suspected  not,  and  to  whose 
care  they  intrusted  their  most  secret  transactions.  Such  a 
game  must  only  end,  after  a time,  in  the  defeat  of  the  society, 
however  strong  and  large  in  numbers.  Hurley,  Morris, 


456 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE, 


Monaghan,  Mulhall,  Sweeney,  Clark,  Gavin,  Butler,  Camp- 
bell, and  Fisher,  and  many  more,  were  absorbingly  engaged, 
day  and  night,  securing  funds  with  which  to  engage  attorneys 
for  the  cases  of  Kelly,  Doyle,  and  Kerrigan.  The  members 
of  Shenandoah  Division  were  assessed  two  dollars  each,  by 
McAndrew,  which  was  promptly  paid,  and  the  result  went 
to  swell  the  protection  fund. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  September,  McAndrew  gave  a 
grand  ball — which  was  attended  by  McKenna — at  his  own 
house,  for  the  especial  benefit  of  the  prisoners.  It  was  on 
this  occasion  that  Morris  proposed  killing  Mr.  P'oster,  the 
editor  of  the  Shenandoah  Herald,,  but  was  strongly  opposed 
by  both  McAndrew  and  McKenna,  and  the  matter  fell 
through.  Mr.  Fielders,  the  city  editor  of  the  same  sheet, 
was  present  at  this  entertainment  and  listened  to  one  or  two 
songs  which  the  detective  sang,  but  he  left  the  room  when 
he  heard  that  the  wild  Irishman  was  threatening  to  kill  him. 
The  hint  was  sent  to  Fielders  purely  in  a spirit  of  mischief, 
by  some  of  the  Mollies,  who  thought  to  frighten  the  re- 
porter. They  did  not  succeed,  but  gave  a permanently  sharp 
point  to  his  pencil,  which,  for  several  years,  he  has  used  in 
puncturing  the  hearts  of  the  Mollie  leaders.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  say  that  McKenna  never  made  a threat  against 
any  one,  in  sober  earnest.  The  ball  was  successful,  and 
brought  considerable  money  to  the  treasury. 

About  the  same  date  Linden  was  approached  b}''  Mike 
Lawler  with  a request  to  find  him  a place  on  the  Coal  and 
Iron  Police,  which  was  easy  enough  to  promise  but  more 
difficult  of  fulfillment.  Muff  invited  his  friend  into  Cleary’s 
saloon,  where  they  soon  found  themselves  in  the  enjoyment 
of  the  usual  refreshments.  McKenna,  seeing  the  two  in  com- 
pany, determined  upon  a little  police  business.  He  searched 
out  Tour  Hurley,  John  Morris,  and  Ned  Monaghan,  and 
with  them  visited  the  same  drinking-place.  While  there  he 
adroitly  mentioned  each  man  by  name,  and  Linden,  know- 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


457 


ing  that  something  important  was  up,  made  himself  famil- 
iarly acquainted  with  the  features  and  other  peculiar  ])oints 
of  all  the  Mollies  spoken  of.  But  Linden  and  McParlan 
were  not  apparently  as  friendly  as  usual.  In  fact,  the  former 
took  occasion  ta  roundly  abuse  the  latter  for  the  y)art  he 
had  taken  at  the  time  of  the  riot,  and  later,  in  fomenting 
discord  in  the  coal  region.  The  Secretary  replied  sharply 
that  he  thought  he  knew  his  business  pretty  well,  and  would 
thank  Linden  to  give  particular  attention  to  his  own  affairs 
and  leave  those  of  other  people  alone. 

Lawler  was  astonished,  and,  by  words  and  winks,  warned 
McKenna  not  to  treat  the  officer  so  roughly,  hinting  that 
Linden  was  the  best  friend  he  had  in  the  State,  and  more 
than  once  had  aided  him  when  he  was  in  imminent  danger 
from  angry  citizens  of  Tamaqua  and  Shenandoah.  Mc- 
Kenna put  on  an  air  of  indifference,  coarsely  expressing 
himself  that  it  “ made  no  difference  to  him.  He  could  take 
care  of  Number  One  ! ” 

Time  passed,  from  the  last  of  September,  through  Novem- 
ber, until  the  tenth  of  December,  1875,  still  my  work 
was  never  relinquished  or  relaxed. 

Between  two  and  three  o’clock,  the  morning  of  the  day 
mentioned,  occurred  an  outrage  of  which  it  was  supposed 
citizens  of  the  neighborhood  were  perpetrators,  the  Mollies 
taking,  for  the  very  first  time,  the  place  of  victims.  It  was 
at  Wiggan’s  Batch,  a colliery  village,  not  far  from  Mahan oy 
City,  that  a band  of  masked  men  forced  an  entrance  to  the 
house  of  the  O’Donnell’s,  where  lived  Friday  O’Donnell,  his 
mother,  and  brother — all  related  by  marriage  to  Jack 
Kehoe — and  in  the  mMee  that  ensued  shot  and  killed  Mrs. 
McAllister,  a daughter  of  Mrs.  O’Donnell,  a sister-in-law  of 
Mrs.  John  Kehoe,  and  then  took  Charles  O’Donnell  into 
the  street,  and  riddled  him  wkh  bullets,  leaving  him  dead 
where  he  fell. 

This  was  fighting  fire  with  fire,  and  the  Mollie  Maguires 
20 


458 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


experienced  a new  feeling  of  dread.  The  people,  stung  to 
madness  by  the  rapidly  succeeding  murders  of  the  summer 
and  fall,  were,  it  appeared,  taking  the  law  in  their  own 
hands  and  giving  payment  for  assassination  in  similar  coin. 
It  looked  natural  that  this  should  be  so.  There  was  a 
breach  of  the  law,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  in  the  interests  of 
humanity  and  the  law,  and,  coupled  with  the  arrests  of  the 
murderers  of  John  P.  Jones,  had  a wonderfully  tranquillizing 
effect  upon  the  society,  which,  during  the  preceding  months, 
nad  disported  itself  riotously  in  human  blood  and  caused  a 
dozen  families  to  mourn  in  despair  the  taking  off  of  some 
of  their  members.  Now  all  was  outwardly  quiet.  Inwardly 
human  passion  surged  and  boiled,  and  the  hearts  of  the 
Mollies  were  filled  with  hate  and  bitterness.  Jack  Kehoe, 
the  King  of  the  Mollies  in  Schuylkill,  was  open  and  loud  in 
his  denunciation  of  the  cowardly  murderers  of  his  wife’s 
kinsman.  He  was  averse  to  receiving  the  sauce  he  served 
to  his  neighbors,  and  vowed  dire  vengeance  upon  the  vigi- 
lance committee.  Pretending  to  believe  that  the  killing  of 
Mrs.  McAllister  had  been  wholly  intentional,  when  some  of 
the  O’Donnell  family  believed  it  purely  accidental,  he 
dee[)ly  cursed  all  murderers  of  women.  Forgetting,  for  the 
moment,  the  several  attempts  the  Mollies  had  made  in  the 
same  direction,  he  endeavored  to  create  sympathy  for  Kelly 
and  Doyle — wasting  no  breath  on  Kerrigan — in  which  he 
made  a mistake — seeking  to  make  their  expected  acquittal 
the  easier  by  arousing  the  prejudices  of  the  people  against 
the  men  supposed  to  have  formed  a part  of  the  committee 
of  safety.  How  he  prospered  in  this,  the  succeeding 
pages  will  exhibit. 

The  Mollies  were  now  confronted  with  an  adversary  as 
mysterious  and  as  dangerous  as  themselves,  and  were  forced 
into  at  least  an  appearance  of  submission.  That  they  truly 
intended  to  give  over  their  misdeeds  is  doubtful.  On  the 
cpntrary,  should  they  succeed  in  evading  punishment,  it  was 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


459 


1 


more  than  probable  their  deeds  of  the  past  would  be  eclipsed 
in  inhumanity  by  those  they  hoped  were  to  follow.  They 
could  not  be  allowed  to  escape  the  just  reward  of  their  many 
misdeeds.  While  seemingly  giving  expression  only  to  great 
indignation,  the  society  was  secretly  discussing  the  propriety 
of  forming  military  companies  and  buying  improved  firearms. 
Some  went  so  far  in  their  divisions  as  to  pass  orders  requiring 
each  man  to  pay  into  the  treasury  a sum  of  money  sufficient 
for  the  purchase  of  a rifle  or  carbine.  In  the  face  of  the 
fear  produced  by  the  late  arrest,  and  the  midnight  work  of 
the  vigilants,  progress  in  the  business  of  arming  was  tediously 
slow.  It  was  the  subject  of  comment  at  a county  conven- 
tion, held  at  Tamaqua  in  January,  1876.  Men  were  to  be 
sent  to  New  York  to  obtain  the  guns,  with  three  hundred 
rounds  of  cartridges,  and  each  Mol  lie  was  expected  to  hold 
himself  in  readiness  to  march  to  the  front  at  a moment’s 
notice.  But  the  movement  failed.  The  guns  were  not  even 
bargained  for.  All  the  bluster  ended  only  in  bluster. 

Hugh  McGehan,  at  this  time,  gave  out  that  he  had  been 
fired  upon,  at  night,  while  going  from  his  saloon  to  the  spring 
for  a pail  of  water,  and  made  a very  narrow  escape  from 
death,  the  bullet  striking  him  in  the  fleshy  part  of  the  shoulder. 
There  were  several  in  the  attacking  party,  one  of  whom  Me 
Gehan  said  he  knew,  but  was  wise  enough  not  to  name. 
Beside  the  real  injury  inflicted  on  McGehan,  several  bullets 
passed  through  and  cut  holes  in  his  coat,  showing  that  how- 
ever hurried  the  aim  of  the  attacking  party  had  been,  it  was 
tolerably  well  taken,  despite  the  surrounding  darkness. 

The  publication  of  the  list  of  Mollies  raised  a feeling  in 
the  society  that  they  held  a traitor  in  their  midst.  Each 
man  fell  to  suspecting  his  neighbor.  No  one,  excepting  a 
member,  they  correctly  argued,  could  ever  have  given  the 
newspapers  such  full  and  accurate  information.  The  ques- 
tion uppermost  in  all  minds  was,  “ WTo  is  the  apostate  ? ” 
That  he  was  well  posted,  controlled  sources  of  intelligence 


46o 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE. 


not  available  by  or  open  to  ordinary  communicants  of  the 
body,  was  evident  to  all.  After  a season  of  serious  discus- 
sion, during  which  every  point  was  covered,  it  was  settled 
that  the  journals  had  been  sui)plied  with  the  names  by  some 
person  residing  in  Schuylkill  County.  Soon  suspicion  began 
to  be  directed  to  Muff  I^awler,  who  was  known  to  be  so  par- 
ticularly kind  to  Linden,  in  whose  society,  for  his  own  pur-  j 
poses,  he  had  very  frequently  placed  himself.  Jack  McClain,  ; 
of  the  same  division,  was  charged  with  having  assisted  Muff  I 
in  collating  the  facts.  McKenna,  the  actual  culprit,  without  ] 
saying  a word  to  give  direction  to  the  idea,  was  freely  ac-  j 
quitted.  Had  he  not  quarreled  with  Linden  months  before  ? 
Had  he  not  separated  himself  from  Lawler?  Was  he  not 
the  same  wicked  Mollie  Maguire  that  he  always  had  been  ■ 
since  his  initiation  ? These  queries  were  promptly  answered  ■ 
in  the  affirmative.  The  agent  was  even  the  recipient  of  jl 
praise  that  he  no  longer  found  pleasure  in  the  society  of  Law- 
ler  or  Linden.  There  were  some  who  charged  the  damaging  jj 
publication  on  Barney  Dolan,  but  he  gave  the  lie  to  it.  As 
Barney,  with  his  brother,  “Bear”  Dolan,  was  in  prison,  at  j 
Pottsville,  where  they  had  been  sent  for  thirty  days,  convict-  j 
ed  of  breaking  a Mrs.  Sweeney’s  windows,  he  thought  such  an  .. 
accusation  uncommonly  hard  upon  him,  and  was  very  vehe- 
ment  in  his  denials.  I 

McKenna  was  now  succeeded  in  the  Secretaryship  of  i 
Shenandoah  Division  by  Ned  Monaghan,  and  new  members  :|: 
were  being  gradually  received,  until  the  Shenandoah  branch 
was  one  of  the  most  important  and  flourishing  in  that  part  j, 
of  Pennsylvania.  But  fear  pervaded  the  division  hall.  I 

Nor  was  it  much  better  at  Summit  Hill,  where  McKenna  ' 
found  it  convenient  to  go  on  the  sixteenth  of  January,  1876.  I 
While  visiting  Alex.  Campbell  at  his  Tesidence,  the  landlord  | 
took  Carroll  and  himself  beyond  ear-shot  of  their  compan-  | 
ions,  and,  with  a very  solemn  face,  assured  them  that  traitors  ‘ 
were  fast  multiplying  in  the  camp.  His  pet,  Hugh  McGehan, " | 


VIOLENCE  FOR  VIOLENCE.  46 1 

was  just  in  receipt  of  another  intimation  that  he  would  be 
called  for.  In  fact,  he  had  been  “noticed.”  The  missive 
bearing  the  startling  intelligence  had  upon  it  the  Mauch 
Chunk  postmark,  and  informed  Hugh  that,  as  he  had  not 
given*  policeman  Yost,  of  Tamaqua,  much  of  a chance  for 
his  life,  he  and  Boyle,  accomplices  in  that  cruel  assassination, 
with  Campbell,  Roarty,  Carroll,  and  Mullhall,  who  were 
all  known,  would  have  about  an  equal  chance  for  theirs. 
Their  fate  was  sealed.  This  document  frightened  the  Sum- 
mit Hill  Mollies.  Campbell  hardly  knew  what  to  do  about 
it.  Were  some  of  the  boys  in  jail  too  open-mouthed,  or  was 
the  dastardly  work  of  the  first  spying  miscreant  yet  going  on? 
The  men  who  had  so  long  murdered  with  a stab  in  the  dark, 
under  cover  of  a mask,  hated  this  baleful  mystery.  The 
weapon  aimed  full  upon  them,  it  made  their  faces  pale  with 
fear.  They  finally  decided  that  the  warning  paper  must  have 
been  sent  by  some  one  who  knew  nothing  whatever  of  their 
crimes,  but  had  suspected  something  and  sought  to  disturb 
them  with  silly  menaces. 

Soon  afterward  a crowd  of  men  walked  up  to  McGehan’s 
house  in  the  night  and  fired  seven  or  eight  bullets  through 
its  siding,  but  none  touched  the  murderer  of  Yost.  Muff 
Lawler,  of  Shenandoah,  was  similarly  treated. 

That  there  was  a spy  among  the  Mollies  all  were  now 
agreed,  but  thus  far  no  thought  had  gone  abroad  that  Mc- 
Kenna was  the  man.  If  Linden  had  something  to  do  with 
the  matter  no  one  would  be  disappointed, 
i At  Mauch  Chunk,  on  his  return,  McParlan  met  one  Teague 
! McGinly,  who  drew  him  aside  and  informed  him  that  he 
had  very  important  news  to  communicate. 

“ What  is  it  ? ” 

“ Shortly  after  last  court  I met  Major  Klutz,  an’  he  took 
‘ me  out,  and  inquired  if  John  McGinly  wor  a Mollie  ? I 
told  him  the  right  down  truth,  that  he  wor  not ! Tlien  Klutz 
i * said  that  a man  named  Pinkerton  sent  one  of  his  detectives 


462 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


to  Mauch  Chunk,  and  he  had  reported  McGinly  as  a mem- 
ber of  the  order ! ” 

“ Who  the  divil  is  this  man,  Pinkerton  ? ” innocently  asked 
McParlan,  “ an’  where  do  he  howld  out ! ” 

“ He  is  a great  one  at  catching  rogues,  an’  lives  in  Phila- 
delphia ! He  has  over  a hundred  men  employed  ! I won- 
der you  have  never  heard  of  him  ! ” 

“ It’s  all  owin’  to  me  ignorance,  I suppose ! An’  that’s 
because  I don’t  rade  all  of  the  papers.  Beside,  I have  a very 
poor  recollection  of  names  ony  how ! I may  hev  heard 
sometime  about  Pinkerton.  If  so,  I must  hev  forgotten 
it!” 

If  the  informer  was  not  Muff  Lawler,  then  who  was  it  ? 
Time  would  probably  solve  the  riddle.  McParlan  was  fear- 
ful that  not  much  time  would  elapse,  as  matters  were  shap- 
ing themselves,  before  he  would  stand  revealed  as  the  person. 
Still  he  did  not  falter,  and  continued  his  labors  as  before. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 

Some  weeks  before  the  occurrence  of  part  of  the  events 
narrated  in  the  last  chapter,  McKenna  had  suffered  from  a 
severe  illness,  and  for  several  weeks  was  under  the  constant 
care  of  an  eminent  physician,  at  Wilkesbarre,  who  succeeded 
in  restoring  him  to  comparatively  good  health,  beside  giving 
him  back  a fair  sprinkling  of  hair  for  the  adornment  of  his 
previously  shining  and  denuded  scalp.  The  capillary  sub- 
stance, which  had  formerly  been  of  a yellow,  or  light  hue, 
when  reproduced  was  of  a dark,  glossy  brown,  adding  con- 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


463 


siderably  to  his  personal  appearance.  In  fact,  a number  of 
his  friends  remarked  that  he  was  far  more  proud  of  the 
second  than  tlie  first  growth,  because  it  made  him  more 
attractive  to  the  ladies.  However  this  may  have  been,  when 
he  again  visited  Tamaqua  and  gave  further  attention  to  Miss 
Higgins,  it  is  true  that  he  found  more  favor  in  her  eyes  than 
he  had  while  sporting  the  red,  straggling,  and  bushy  wig. 
But  he  had  little  time  in  which  to  press  his  suit  with  Kerri- 
gan’s sister-in  law,  as  Mrs.  Kerrigan  and  her  relatives  were 
all  industriously  engaged  in  preparing  testimony  to  prove 
the  “ Babe  ” innocent  of  crime.  Inadvertently  the  sisters 
let  fall  hints,  now  and  then,  as  to  the  course  they  were  pur- 
suing and  the  parties  on  whom  they  relied  for  making  oath 
to  Jimmy’s  whereabouts  the  day  of  the  murder.  Very  natu- 
rally, these  confidences  were  incorporated  in  the  detective’s 
reports,  and,  very  naturally  again,  the  prosecution  was  made 
aware  of  this  and  other  portions  of  the  line  of  defense  to  be 
adopted  by  the  prisoners  when  brought  to  trial  at  Mauch 
Chunk. 

Passing  over  a few  weeks,  during  the  expiration  of  which 
the  Agency  was  employed  in  massing  testimony  in  all  the 
cases  and  placing  it  in  good  shape  before  the  District  Attor- 
ney, I now  come  to  the  first  indictment  of  a Mollie  Maguire, 
in  this  country,  with  a possible  chance  for  ultimate  convic- 
tion. This  w'as  on  the  eighteenth  of  January,  1876,  at 
Mauch  Chunk,  Carbon  County.  The  parties  arraigned 
were  Michael  J.  Doyle,  of  Mt.  Latfee,  Schuylkill  County,  and 
Edward  Kelly,  charged  wuth  the  murder  of  John  P.  Jones. 
The  circumstances  of  the  crime  have  already  been  suffi- 
ciently detailed.  At  an  earlier  date  the  three  murderers, 
Kelly,  Doyle,  and  Kerrigan,  had  been  jointly  put  on  trial, 
entering  the  usual  plea  of  “ not  guilty,”  and  demanding  a 
severance.  The  Commonwealth  was  represented  by  E.  R. 
Siewers,  Esq.,  the  able  District  Attorney,  Hon.  F.  W. 
Hughes,  of  Pottsville,  Gen.  Chas.  Albright,  of  Mauch 


464 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS, 


Chunk,  and  Hon.  Allen  Craig.  For  the  defendant,  Doyle, 
the  Commonwealth  choosing  to  try  him  first,  appeared 
Hon.  Lin.  Bartholomew,  Hon.  J.  B.  Reilly,  and  John  W. 
Ryon,  of  Pottsville,  Daniel  Kalbfiis,  Esq.,  and  Edward 
Mulhearn,  Esq.,  of  Mauch  Chunk.  On  the  twenty -first  of 
January  a jury  had  been  obtained,  consisting  of  Wm.  Bloss, 
Jonas  Beck,  Joel  Strohl,  Dan’l  Boy^er,  jr.,  Dan’l  Remaly,  Abra- 
ham Henry,  Levi  West,  Levi  Straub,  Henry  Long,  Peter 
Cushman,  Thos.  A.  Williams  and  Drake  H.  Long.  The  trial 
at  Mauch  Chunk  was  well  attended  by  all  the  celebrities  of 
the  Carbon  County  bar,  much  surprise  being  exhibited  that 
at  last  there  seemed  a possibility  that  a Mollie  might  be  con- 
victed of  a crime.  Great  efforts  were  made  by  the  leaders 
of  the  clan  to  show  that  not  one  of  the  three  men  charged 
with  the  deed  could  possibly  have  been  present  at  the  kill- 
ing of  Jones,  as  they  really  were  elsewhere,  but  their  trouble 
and  expense  came  to  naught,  from  the  effective  work  the 
detectives  had  performed  and  were  performing.  The  wit- 
nesses, so  confidently  expected  to  appear,  were  for  once 
abashed  and  afraid  to  take  the  stand.  They  knew  they 
could  not  swear  to  a lie  and  go  unpunished.  The  old  and 
well  tried  alibi  fell  prostrate,  no  more  to  be  resuscitated,  it 
is  to  be  hoped,  in  the  criminal  courts  of  the  Commonwealth. 
Before  the  end  of  the  cause,  James  Kerrigan,  of  I'amaqua, 
made  known,  in  a proper  way,  to  the  prosecuting  officer  that 
he  wanted  to  give  State’s  testimony.  After  a careful  con- 
sideration, he  was  accepted,  placed  before  the  court  and 
made  a confession  about  as  follows  : 

“ I live  in  Tamaqua  and  have  been  there  six  or  seven 
years  ; am  a man  of  family  and  work  in  the  mines.  I have 
known  Alex.  Campbell  three  or  four  years  ; met  him  first  at 
Tamaqua,  last  September ; he  lived  at  Storm  Hill  and  kept 
a tavern,  selling  whisky  and  porter.  I did  not  know  John 
Jones,  but  was  acquainted  with  Michael  Doyle  and  Edward 
Kelly.  Oh  the  first  of  September  last  I had  been  working 


TIi£  trial  at  Mauch  Chunk  Wi/s  attended  by  all  the  celebrities  of  the  Carbon  County  bar. 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


465 


at  Alaska  Colliery,  in  Tamaqiia,  for  Mr.  Richards,  and  was 
returning  home  from  work  in  the  evening,  when  I went  into 
the  hotel,  kept  by  James  Carroll,  to  get  a drink.  Mr.  Lutz, 
of  Tamaqua,  was  there,  also  Doyle  and  Kelly.  I was  going 
out,  when  Carroll  followed  me  to  the  porch,  asking  me  if  I 
would  take  those  men,  Doyle  and  Kelly,  over  to  Alex. 
Campbell’s,  at  Storm  Hill.  I told  him  I would  have  to  go 
to  work  at  II  o’clock,  but  after  he  coaxed  me  I promised. 
He  then  made  me  acquainted  with  them  and  I went  home 
to  wash  myself  and  get  supper,  returning  at  twenty  minutes 
past  seven  p.m.  (I  left  work  at  about  half-past  five  p.m., 
that  day.)  The  colliery  was  nearly  a mile  from  Carroll’s 
place.  When  I got  back  from  the  house  Carroll  treated 
twice  and  walked  with  us  as  far  as  Freidenburgh’s,  giving  me 
instructions  not  to  tell  any  one  that  might  ask  where  we  were 
going.  At  the  New  York  depot  we  met  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Griffiths  and  1 bade  them  good  evening.  We  then  walked 
on  to  Storm  Hill  and  found  Alex.  Campbell  there,  and  his 
little  brother-in-law,  a boy  of  fourteen,  with  him.  Campbell 
called  me  outside,  bidding  me  wait  until  he  had  put  on  his 
coat,  when  he  would  accompany  us  to  McGehan’s,  at  Storm 
Hill,  first  treating  us  at  his  own  bar.  He  told  his  little 
brother-in-law  to  say,  if  any  one  inquired  for  him  in  his  ab- 
sence, that  he  had  gone  to  a wake.  As  we  went  into  Mc- 
Gehan’s, two  or  three  men  were  coming  out  ; one  I know  is 
named  Aubry  and  1 think  his  given  name  is  William.  Alex. 
Campbell  called  for  drinks  and  paid  for  them.  Then  he  be- 
gan to  whisper,  up  by  the  bar.  The  next  thing  I observed 
was  three  revolvers.  McGehan  got  them,  and  took  the 
chambers  out  of  two  and  began  to  oil  them  out  of  a can. 
After  fixing  them  he  gave  one  to  Doyle  and  one  to  Kelly. 
Campbell  handed  one  to  me,  but  I refused  and  would  not 
take  it.  He  wanted  me  to  go  with  the  others  and  shoot 
John  Jones,  but  I said  I did  not  know  him  and  would  not  go. 
They  then  agreed  I should  stay  there  that  night  and  they 
20"^ 


466 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


would  go  with  me  to  get  work  in  the  morning,  as  they  wanted 
to  see  and  recognize  the  boss. 

“McGehan  and  Campbell  were  saying  that  John  Jones 
had  black-listed  some  men  that  had  been  working  there,  and 
McGehan  was  one  of  the  three,  another  being  named  Mar- 
shall. Parish  gave  these  men  a letter  to  give  John  Jones 
and  Zehner,  to  be  reinstated,  but  they  ordered  the  men  away 
from  the  office,  saying  there  was  no  work  for  them.  Camp- 
bell said  if  Jones  was  shot  Zehner  would  then  run  away.  Mc- 
Gehan said  : ‘ By  G , if  he  does  not  cool  off,  after  this, 

we’ll  give  him  a bail  ! ’ McGehan  said  he  was  black-listed 
at  Judd’s,  also,  and  there  were  two  men  there  that  he  wanted 
put  out  of  the  way,  B.  Marble  and  John  Turner. 

“ We  started  from  McGehan’sat  seven  a.  m.,  and  came  down 
to  the  Catholic  church  and  on  the  road  to  Micky  O’Donnel’s 
tavern,  passing  Micky  at  the  depot,  and  went  up  the  railroad 
to  Number  Six,  where  Doyle  went  into  a blacksmith’s  shop 
and  Kelly  and  I went  up  to  a house  above,  where  we  asked 
a woman  if  she  sold  anything.  Doyle  afterward  came  up 
and  we  got  a bowl  of  milk. 

“We  then  went  up  to  a Mrs.  Davis,  and  finding  she  sold 
porter,  called  for  three  bottles  ; she  asked  Doyle  where  we 
came  from,  and  he  told  her  Shenandoah.  Then  she  gave  us 
tea  and  a good  meal.  We  went  out  to  the  slope  to  look 
for  work,  but  leaving  Doyle  and  Kelly,  I went  to  Mc- 
Gehan’s ; still  they  could  not  see  the  boss,  so  came  back  and 
met  me.  They  failed  again  to  find  Jones,  and  about  six  p.m. 
we  all  went  to  Alex.  Campbell’s,  McGehan  carrying  the 
pistols.  As  a wagon  was  passing  I wanted  to  go  home  on 
it,  as  I told  them  my  wife  would  think  me  lost,  but  Camp- 
bell would  not  let  me.  Campbell  treated  us,  on  arriving  at 
his  bar,  and  after  supper  I again  wished  to  start  for  home, 
but  Campbell  objected,  wishing  me  to  go  up  with  the  others 
and  shoot  Jones  at  the  house,  as  he  would  be  coming  from 
the  post-office  about  that  time.  While  Doyle  and  Kelly  went. 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


467 


Campbell  made  me  get  down  on  my  knees  and  promise 
never  to  tell  or  speak  of  the  matter,  drunk  or  sober.  He 
then  bade  me  go  up  and  see  where  they  were.  I met  them 
this  side  of  Micky  O’Donnebs,  and  Doyle  was  sitting  on  a 
stone.  Kelly  said  he  had  been  into  a house  and  asked  if 
Jones  was  at  home,  and  the  person  said  he  was  not. 

“ On  returning  to  Campbell’s,  this  house  was  described 
to  Alex.,  and  he  said  it  was  Geo.  Hooley’s  house,  not  Jones’. 
VVe  stopped  at  Campbell’s  all  that  night,  and  they  were  fool- 
ing with  the  cartridges.  Kelly  said  he  would  take  Campbell’s 
small  revolver  along  in  the  morning,  and  shoot  Jones  as  he 
was  going  to  his  work,  and  not  let  him  off  with  one  ball,  but 
give  him  three  or  four.  Michael  Doyle  had  the  old  pistol 
and  the  black-jack,  and  Kelly  had  the  other  two.  Campbell 
advised  them  they  need  not  be  a bit  afraid,  for  no  one  would 
ever  follow  them,  as  Jones  was  not  liked  by  the  Welshmen  or 
any  one  else.  ‘You  can  have  this,’  said  Campbell,  handing 
me  a five  dollar  bill,  ‘ and  buy  them  some  whisky  and  give 
them  enough  to  pay  their  way  home  on  the  cars.’  I gave  the 
bill  to  my  woman  when  I got  to  Tamaqua,  and  she  got  a 
pint  of  whisky  of  Mrs.  Clark,  who  could  not  change  the  bill. 
I took  the  liquor  out  to  them  at  the  spring  where  we  were 
arrested. 

“ Campbell  told  Doyle  and  Kelly  to  be  sure  not  to  be  seen 
at  Carroll’s  in  the  day-time,  but  to  go  in  the  night  and  leave 
the  pistols  there,  and  then  go  home  on  the  cars  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  also  told  them  this  the  night  Carroll  came  up  the 

railroad.  Then  Doyle  said  : ‘ By  G , they  are  after  us  ! 

There  is  Carroll  ! ’ and  he  started  to  run.  I joined  the  soci- 
ety in  Campbell’s  cellar,  thinking  it  the  A.  O.  H.  A man 
named  Donahue  put  me  through.  I did  not  know  it  was  the 
Mollie  Maguires  until  Barney  O’ Hare  was  burned  out  at 
Tuscarora.  Slattery  got  and  paid  Alex.  Campbell  to  send 
the  men.  I was  at  Campbell’s  when  they  started. 

“ I made  this  statement  before  Doyle’s  conviction.  I 


468 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


received  no  reward  from  Campbell  for  showing  the  men  the 
road,  and  the  five  dollar  bill  which  we  could  not  change  I 
have  since  sent  my  wife  from  the  prison  by  Wallace. 

“The  order  of  Mollie  Maguires  is  an  organization  to  mur- 
der, and  the  men  do  not  speak  of  their  plans  at  the  public 
meetings  but  the  Bodymasters  employ  men  to  do  the  work 
for  them.” 

After  this,  Mrs.  Kerrigan  turned  against  her  husband  and 
said  he  might  hang.  She  would  not  raise  her  hand  to  save 
him. 

During  the  trial,  McKenna,  who  was  in  attendance,  osten- 
sibly as  a spectator,  but  really  to  find  out  all  he  could,  came 
across  a man  named  Durkin,  who  told  him  he  was  ready,  in 
the  event  that  the  Mollies  were  convicted,  to  blow  up  the 
court-house  edifice,  killing  judges,  jury,  attorneys,  officials, 
and  innocent  spectators,  having  procured  a can  of  nitro- 
glycerine, which  he  had  safely  deposited  in  a shop  near  at 
hand.  The  agent  informed  the  desperado  that  he  was  very 
foolish  to  concoct  such  a plot,  and  would  be  still  more  silly 
should  he  endeavor  to  put  it  into  operation,  as  he  could 
make  sure  of  being  captured  and  strung  up  by  the  vigilance 
committee,*  to  the  nearest  tree.  As  the  attempt  was  never 
made,  it  is  probable  that  the  reckless  fellow  was  sufficiently 
frightened  and  wisely  decided  to  abandon  the  idea. 

Kerrigan’s  confession  having  corroborated,  in  every 
important  particular,  the  stories  of  the  other  State’s  wit- 
nesses, on  the  first  of  the  ensuing  February  the  jury 
returned  a verdict  of  “guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree,” 
and,  on  the  twenty-second,  the  Court  sentenced  Michael 
Doyle  to  death.  This  was  noteworthy  as  the  earliest  con- 
viction and  disposal  of  a real  Mollie  in  Pennsylvania,  and 
the  news  spread  rapidly,  far  and  wide,  carrying  consterna- 
tion and  dismay  into  the  ranks  of  the  organization  and 
shocking  the  nerves  of  the  leaders  everywhere  in  the  State. 
During  the  progress  of  the  trial  the  Mollies  had  been  bold 


TRIALS  AKD  CONFESSIONS. 


469 


and  defiant,  and  many  of  their  principal  men  were  on  the 
spot,  expecting,  as  they  expected  to  live,  to  witness  the 
defendant’s  release.  How  deeply  they  were  disappointed 
McKenna  was  among  the  first  to  receive  intelligence.  He 
said  that  the  unforeseen  result  had  come  upon  the  order 
like  an  earthquake  in  a quiet  village.  Everybody  was  dumb- 
founded. 

Edward  Kelly  was  placed  at  the  bar  before  Judge  Dreher, 
the  twenty-ninth  of  the  succeeding  March,  and  although 
ably  defended,  met  with  a similar  fate,  a verdict  of  murder 
in  the  first  degree  having  been  returned  by  the  jury  on  the 
twelfth  of  April  following.  Death-warrants  were  issued  by 
the  Governor  in  both  cases,  fixing  the  execution  of  Doyle 
for  the  third  of  May,  and  that  of  Kelly  for  the  fourth  of 
the  same  month.  Writs  of  error  in  the  Supreme  Court, 
however,  superseded  the  death-warrants,  and  all  of  the  mur- 
derers of  John  P.  Jones,  and  those  implicated  before  and 
after  the  fact,  at  this  date,  are  still  unexecuted.  In  Feb- 
ruary, .1877,  Edward  Kelly  made  a voluntary  confession, 
clearly  showing  that  he  had  not  been  wrongfully  charged  or 
convicted,  and  substantiating  the  words  of  Kerrigan  to  the 
letter.  He  did  not  expect  or  ask  for  mercy,  but,  before 
dying,  desired  to  purge  himself  of  his  crime,  and  was  given 
the  opportunity. 

These  cases  failed  in  the  Supreme  Court,  and  in  May, 
1877,  Gov.  Hartranft  signed  the  death-warrants,  the  execu- 
tions to  take  place  on  the  21st  of  June  following. 

Returning  to  Shenandoah,  after  the  adjournment  of  Carbon 
County  Court,  McKenna  rejoined  his  friends,  the  Mollies, 
and  silently  acquiesced  in  the  “sweet”  prayers  of  all  the 
organization  for  the  “dear”  judge  and  jury  that  had  con- 
victed one  of  their  number.  They  were  terribly  mortified 
and  annoyed  through  the  failure  of  their  plans,  and  were  at 
a standstill. 

Jerry  Kane  took  the  cue  early,  and  fled  from  the  country. 


470 


TRIALS  AND  CONFESSIONS. 


Hurley  preceded  him,  and  the  remainder,  now  fugitives  from 
justice,  stopped  awhile  to  see  the  full  result  of  the  matter. 

Barney  Dolan,  the  great,  at  this  time  was  outspoken 
against  Kehoe,  exclaiming  in  his  mild  way,  that  all  the  pend- 
ing troubles  came  from  the  County  Delegate’s  own  ineffi- 
ciency and  unpardonable  blundering.  He  added  com- 
placently that,  had  he  been  the  incumbent  of  the  office  of 
County  Delegate,  it  could  never  have  occurred.  He  would 
have  taken  ten  or  twelve  good  men,  marched  to  Mauch 
Chunk,  captured  the  jail,  and  released  the  prisoners.  Barney 
was  allowed  to  have  and  enjoy  his  boast,  but  there  were 
those  present  who  thought  even  he  might  not  have  saved 
the  defendants  from  conviction. 

Kerrigan  turning  State’s  evidence  was  the  most  stunning 
blow  the  Mollies  had  thus  far  received,  but  they  knew  not,  at 
the  time,  how  much  heavier  strokes  were  yet  in  preparation 
to  fall  upon  their  villainous  heads.  Some  of  the  tribe.  Jack 
Kehoe  included,  would  not  believe  the  report  that  a Body- 
master,  especially  one  who  knew  so  much  of  the  cruel  crimes 
of  the  society  as  Kerrigan,  had  assumed  the  work  of  in- 
former. He  even  went  as  far  as  to  say  that  some  of  the 
State’s  officers — Capt.  Linden  very  probably — had  originated 
the  story  for  the  purpose  of  inviting  a person  to  do  just  what 
they  accused  Jimmy  Kerrigan  of  doing.  He  was  more  in- 
clined to  the  thought  that  Ned  Monaghan,  who  had  been 
seen,  he  alleged,  at  a suspiciously  late  hour,  coming  out  of 
the  editorial  rooms  of  the  Shenandoah  Herald^  was  engaged 
in  the  character  of  spy,  and  accused  him  of  having  inaugu- 
rated the  movement  by  publishing  the  names  of  the  chief 
Mollies.  “ At  least,”  concluded  King  Jack,  “ somebody  in 
Shenandoah  is  at  the  head  of  the  game  for  injuring  the  organi- 
zation, and  I am  determined  to  learn  who  it  may  be  ! ” 

At  this  juncture  McKenna  suggested  that,  to  make  his  own 
work  more  effective,  he  might  be  arrested  on  a trumped-up 
charge  of  having  been  in  some  way  connected  with  the  Yost 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


47  r 

tragedy,  after  which,  when  incarcerated  with  other  prisoners, 
he  could  safely  form  plans  for  learning  all  their  secrets,  and 
possibly  obtain  important  confessions,  in  the  presence  and 
hearing  of  other  witnesses,  which  would  lead  to  new  arrests 
and  at  least  make  sure  the  conviction  of  all  that  had  been 
captured.  landen  urged  the  same  thing  upon  Mr.  Franklin, 
and  we  were  about  to  arrange  the  scheme  in  accordance 
with  the  line  indicated,  when  a series  of  startling  events 
transpired,  which  concluded  the  chances  for  such  work 
proving  successful.  The  Mollies  thought  they  had  discovered 
who  was  the  traitor  in  their  ring. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

SUSPICION  AROUSED. 

In  February,  McAndrew  found  himself  the  victim  of  a 
panic  regarding  the  society.  He  believed  that  Kerrigan  was 
only  the  Alpha  and  that  Omega  was  not  far  away,  and  there- 
fore requested  the  detective  to  go  with  him  and  help  destroy 
every  book  and  paper  in  any  manner  connected  with  Shen- 
andoah Division,  A.  O.  H.,  otherwise  the  Mollie  Maguires, 
They  quickly  performed  that  task,  and  the  test-paper,  fabri- 
cated record  of  proceedings,  constitution  and  by-laws,  treas- 
urer’s receipts  and  vouchers,  with  the  charter  and  blank 
traveling  cards,  were  converted  into  black  and  harmless 
charcoal.  The  men  who  had  so  long  carried  the  affairs  of 
the  county  with  a high  hand  were  now  in  a state  of  demoral 
ization.  They  appreciated  that  something  dreadful  lay  in 
their  pathway.  What  goblin  shape  it  might  assume  they 
could  not  say,  and  it  was  the  more  horrible  from  its  very 


472 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


indistinctness.  It  might  be  a gallows  tree.  It  might  be  a 
prison.  It  might  be  something  more  to  be  feared  than  either, 
and  at  last  take  the  form  of  a vigilance  committee.  What- 
ever it  might  prove  to  be,  they  were  determined  to  have  no 
written  evidences  of  their  acts  confronting  them.  In  Kerri- 
gan’s case,  the  books  and  papers  of  Tamaqua  branch  were 
at  his  house  when  the  constables  searched  it,  but  so  well  con- 
cealed were  they  that,  after  upsetting  almost  everything,  and 
turning  all  the  beds  and  mattresses  inside  out,  they  were 
still  undiscovered. 

The  next  news  Shenandoah  Division  received  was  con- 
tained in  a letter  from  Linden,  written  to  McKenna,  giving 
the  latter  a fraternal  greeting  and  saying  that,  as  he,  James 
McKenna,  was  suspected,  he  had  best  make  his  way  to 
foreign  parts.  “ I may  at  any  moment,  have  a warrant 
placed  in  my  hands  for  your  arrest,”  concluded  this  precious 
epistle,  “ and  I really  do  not  wish  to  be  forced  to  lay  hands 
upon  you.  If  you  have  flown  and  I cannot  find  you,  as  a 
natural  consequence  I will  be  unable  to  put  irons  on  my  old 
chum  from  Buffalo  ! ” 

“ ni  not  budge  wan  single  inch,  to  save  them  all  from 
perdition  ! ” exclaimed  the  operative,  after  reading  the  docu- 
ment to  McAndrew  and  the  crowd  usually  congregated  at 
Cleary’s.  “ I am  innocent  ! I’ll  only  be  arrested,  anyhow  ! 
An’  if  others  stand  by,  why  shouldn’t  I ! Linden  knows  I 
will  remain  ! ” 

The  Mollies  applauded  him  for  this  exhibition  of  mock 
courage.  They  would  have  acted  in  an  entirely  different 
manner  had  they  known  that  it  was  precisely  the  response 
he  had  beerr  expected  to  make  to  the  well-concocted  epistle, 
and  that  even  then  the  proper  papers  were  ready  for  Mc- 
Parlan’s  apprehension  and  confinement  at  Mauch  Chunk. 

Thomas  Munley  was  arrested  for  the  Sanger  and  Uren 
murder  at  about  this  date,  with  McAllister,  and  both  were 
taken  to  Pottsville,  where  a hearing  on  an  application  for  a 


6-  usrici  OiV  A A'  O USED. 


473 


writ  of  habeas  corpus  was  had,  and  many  of  the  members 
of  the  order  were  accordingly  in  the  city.  The  detective 
found  it  necessary  to  confine  himself  very  closely  to  his  room, 
under  medical  treatment  he  was  receiving,  seldom  venturing 
beyond  a block  from  the  boarding-house  on  Norwegian 
Street,  and  was  feeling  very  despondent  over  the  prospect 
of  becoming  totally  blind  unless  there  soon  came  a change 
for  the  better,  when  he  received  a call  from  Frank  Me  Andrew, 
then  a transient  visitor  at  Pottsville  in  the* interests  of  the 
prisoners.  After  a little  friendly  conversation,  the  Shenan- 
doah Bodymaster  invited  his  Secretary  to  walk  with  him  to 
the  court-house.  It  would  not  do  to  deny  the  reasonable 
request,  and  the  two  emerged  from  the  dwelling,  arm-in-arm. 
McAndrew  was  thoughtful  for  a moment,  then  exclaimed  : 
“ Something  queer  occurred  on  the  cars  as  I was  coming 
down,  this  morning  ! ” 

“ Phat  wor  that  ? ” inquired  McParlan. 

“ I know  it’s  not  true,  but  I must  tell  you  for  the  danger 
there  is  in  it  ! Some  of  the  boys,  Kehoe  among  the  num- 
j ber,  were  making  bets,  as  we  rode  along,  that  you’d  appear 
on  the  witness  stand,  to-day,  for  the  Commonwealth — in 
other  words,  that  you  were  a secret  spy,  a detective  ! 
There  ! It’s  out ! But,  remember,  I don’t  believe  a word 
about  it ! ” 

“ Me  a spy  ? Me  a detective  ? ” exclaimed  McKenna, 
with  a show  of  virtuous  indignation.  “ I will  thank  ye  to 
name  the  man  that  dare  insult  me  by  saying  so  ! ” 

“ There  is  no  occasion  for  anger ! ” 

“ I think,  be  me  sowl,  there  is  occasion  for  much  of  it ! I 
won’t  have  such  a slander  circulated  about  me  ! Sure,  if 
ye  are  the  friend  ye  say  ye  are,  you’ll  out  wid  it  an’  give  me 
the  man’s  name  ! ” 

McAndrew  hesitated  a second,  and  then  responded  : 

“ Jack  Kehoe  was  the  person  ! ” 

“ Jack  Kehoe  ? Does  he  dare  do  that  ? ” 


474 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


“ I heard  him  whispering  it  to  several.  But,  to  the  credit 
of  the  men  of  the  division,  I must  say  they’ll  not  entertain  the 
suspicion,  which  has  risen  in  some  way  since  the  arrest  of 
Munley  and  the  squealing  of  Jimmy  Kerrigan  ! ” 

“ Will  ye  go  wid  me,  an’  see  Kehoe  ? I’ll  knock  those 
words  down  his  throat,  or  he  shall  tell  me  where  he  got  ’em, 
or  take  them  back  ! ” 

After  consenting,  the  two  men  visited  Danny  Hughes’ 
place — which  at  the  time  was  a sort  of  headquarters  for 
the  crew,  since  Dormer  had  sold  out  the  Sheridan  House  and 
ado[)ted  the  peaceful  calling  of  a pedler  of  wares  and  vegeta- 
bles, in  a wagon,  over  the  hilly  country — but  Kehoe  was  not 
there. 

“ An’  hev  ye  heard  the  nonsensical  charge  they’re  circula- 
tin’ about  me?”  asked  McKenna  of  the  tavern-keeper. 

“Yes  ! and  I must  confess  that  it  staggered  me  ! I am  far 
from  belavin’  anything  of  the  sort ! Kehoe  didn’t  come  down 
here  himself,  but  sent  Mrs.  Kehoe  to  me,  wid  a message, 
like.  She  came  into  me  saloon,  she  did,  an’  wanted  me,  for 
Jack’s  sake,  to  say  to  every  wan  interested,  to  beware  of  you, 
Jim  McKenna,  fur  you  wor  a detective  ! At  laste,  that  such 
wor  the  report ; an’  that  Jack  had  recaved  it  from  responsi- 
ble persons!  That’s  all  I know  of  the  matter  I Tho’  Jack 
Kehoe  was  to  take  his  oath  on  the  holy  cross,  I’d  tell  him  he 
lied  I I’m  not  such  a fool  as  to  be  scared  at  a shadow  ! ” 
“Thanks  for  your  confidence  in  me,”  answered  the  agent, 
pleased  that  Hughes,  who  was  an  honest,  free-spoken  man, 
should  refuse  to  credit  the  statement  of  even  King  Kehoe. 
“ I’ll  see  this  man,  soon,  an’  he’ll  have  to  tell  me  who’s  the 
father  of  this  lie,  or  I’ll  surely  make  somebody  suffer  ! ” 

“ I would,  if  I were  in  your  place,”  said  Hughes.  “No 
person  should  slander  me  in  that  way  an’  live  1 ” 

The  case  before  court  resulted  in  the  holding  of  Munley 
for  trial.  This  created  more  indignation,  and  the  murder- 
ers began  to  look  about  them  and  inquire  if  this  was  the 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


475 


State  of  Pennsylvania  that  they  were  in,  or  some  territory, 
where  Mollies  were  unknown  ? With  their  surprise  was  ming- 
led inveterate  hate  for  those  who  were  supposed  to  be  follow- 
ing them  for  the  purpose  of  their  capture  and  punishment. 

The  time  had  now  come,  with  McKenna,  which  he  had  so 
long  dreaded.  Suspicion,  which  he  knew,  from  experience 
with  many  others,  had  generally  proven  fatal,  was  at  last 
directed  upon  him.  There  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but 
brazenly  face  the  accusation  down.  He  believed  that  not  a 
living  person  knew  anything  of  the  actual  facts.  People 
might  think  him  a detective,  but  he  had  the  utmost  confi- 
dence that  they  would  be  unable  to  bring  an  item  of  proof 
to  support  their  belief.  Nobody  excepting  Mr.  Go  wen,  Mr. 
Linden,  Mr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Bangs,  and  myself  had  knowledge 
that  he  was  James  McParlan,  the  detective.  He  was  confi- 
dent no  other  man  could  learn  anything  of  his  business. 
Bishop  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  was  aware  of  the  circum- 
stance that  an  operative  was  in  the  coal  region,  as  before 
explained,  but  he  had  no  definite  idea  of  the  individual. 
Even  had  he  been  cognizant  of  his  personality  he  still  would 
have  preserved  the  secret  intact.  “Then,”  the  detective 
argued,  “it  must  be  merely  a chance  suspicion,  which  Jack 
Kehoe  has  himself  originated,  or  some  other  highly  imagina- 
tive person  may  have  given  to  him.”  Come  what  would,  he 
resolved  to  go  at  once  to  Shenandoah,  thence  to  Girard- 
ville,  and  openly  denounce  the  tale  as  a falsehood  of  the 
deepest  dye.  Kehoe  kept  out  of  the  way  while  he  was  in 
Pottsville  and  the  agent  could  not  see  him.  In  the  evening 
of  the  same  day,  still  accompanied  by  McAndreW,  the  agent 
took  cars  for  Shenandoah.  After  sleeping  there,  he  went 
alone  to  Girardville  and  marched  direct  to  the  house  of  the 
County  Delegate. 

“What  is  this  I hear  you  are  afther  sayin’  agin  me?” 
Miquired  the  visitor,  facing  Kehoe,  who  was  in  his  own  bar 
waiting  upon  customers  when  he  entered,  but  the  strangers 


476 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


having  gone,  the  two  men  being  quite  alone  at  the  time. 
“Tell  me  what  you  have  been  spreadin’ over  the  country 
about  me  ! ’’ 

“ I have  told  that  you  are  not  what  you  seem,  but  a detec- 
tive ; an’  I heard  it  some  time  ago  ! ” Then  Kehoe  laughed 
a cynical  laugh,  and  added  : “ But  I don’t  believe  a word  of 
the  yarn  ! ” 

He  was  evidently  ill  at  ease  and  wanted  to  conciliate  the 
heated  individual  before  him,  whose  flushed  face  and  uneasy 
movements  indicated  more  than  a usual  degree  of  excite- 
ment, and  he  had  no  desire  that  the  interview  should  end  in 
a personal  disturbance. 

“ I want  to  know,  Misther  Kehoe,  who  is  goin’  to  prove 
this  assertion  ! Nobody  can  prove  it,  fur  it  is  a downright 
lie  ! You  may  appoint  a trial  fur  me  before  the  society  ! 
I’ll  be  there,  an’  let  me  stand  forninst  the  thafe  of  the 
worruld  who  dare  report  me  as  an  informer  ! Let  the  order 
judge  me  ! An’  if  I find  who  is  lyin’  about  me,  it’ll  go  hard 
wid  him  ! I’ll  shoot  the  scoundrel,  if  I hang  fur  it  ! ” 

And  McKenna  made  considerable  bluster,  thumped  the 
counter  with  the  butts  of  two  revolvers,  which  he  held  in  his 
hands  and  almost  convinced  Kehoe  himself  that  he  was  not 
acting  a part  in  his  denials  of  the  grave  charge.  At  last  the 
County  Delegate  informed  McKenna  that  a conductor  on 
the  Reading  Railroad,  while  he  was  riding  from  Ashland,  at 
least  when  between  Ashland  and  Girardville,  had  asked  him, 
Kehoe,  into  the  baggage  car  and  inquired  if  he  had  seen 
McKenna  lately,  and  added  that  he,  the  conductor,  had 
heard  that  he  was  a detective.  The  reply  that  Kehoe  made 
was  not  given. 

“ We’ll  have  some  proof  of  this  ! ” exclaimed  the  agent, 
having  become  more  cool  as  the  circumstance  was  detailed. 

Subsequently  Kehoe,  who  acted  as  though  he  discredited 
the  rumor,  agreed  to  give  McKenna  a hearing  before  a con- 
vention of  Bodymasters,  and,  saying  that,  as  he  was  himself 


y /ns  'ioill  s/i‘tu/y  your  uorves’  sou/  Kehoc 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


477 


rather  nervous,  the  detective  should  make  the  necessary 
notices,  signing  the  County  Delegate’s  name  to  them.  To 
this  McKenna  agreed,  and,  obtaining  stamped  envelopes  and 
stationery,  went  upstairs  to  the  family  apartment,  where  he 
found  Mrs.  Kehoe  with  her  childen,  and,  sitting  at  the  table 
between  the  two  front  windows,  he  commenced  writing. 
But  he  found  his  own  fingers  not  in  the  exact  plight  to  do 
duty  in  producing  readable  penmanship.  Persevering,  how- 
ever, he  managed  to  get  ready  a few  of  the  needed  letters. 
Mrs.  Kehoe  received  him  pleasantly,  as  she  always  had.  In 
a little  while  Kehoe,  himself,  left  the  bar  and  visited  the  sit- 
ting-room. He  did  not  remain  many  minutes,  but  returned 
to  his  business  below.  Presently  the  detective  heard  his 
footsteps  again  ascending  the  staircase.  When  Kehoe 
entered  the  apartment  the  second  time  his  face  was  of  a 
more  sickly  color  than  usual  and  his  hand  trembled  percepti- 
bly as  he  passed  a glass  of  liquor  to  the  operativ®. 

“ This  will  steady  your  nerves,”  said  Kehoe. 

The  tumbler  and  contents  were  accepted  by  McKenna. 
Saying  he  would  taste  of  it  soon,  he  thanked  the  agitated 
saloon-keeper  and  resumed  work  on  his  stack  of  letters. 
Mrs.  Kehoe  looked  up  inquiringly,  as  she  continued  her  sew- 
ing, and  the  little  girl,  who  had  been  playing  with  a ball  and 
her  pet  kitten,  gazed  wonderingly  upon  Kehoe  as  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  journeyed  down  stairs  again.  McKenna  did 
not  particularly  like  the  expression  of  Jack  Kehoe’s  naturally 
smiling  countenance.  He  pondered  the  circumstance  for  a 
moment  and  then,  saying  that  the  fumes  of  liquor,  under  cer- 
tain conditions,  made  him  ill,  shoved  the  goblet  from  him 
with  a preoccupied  air  and  went  on  with  his  writing.  He 
was  in  such  haste  to  complete  his  work  and  place  the  letters, 
all  enveloped,  sealed,  and  directed  in  Kehoe’s  hands,  that  he 
quite  forgot  to  imbibe'*the  spirits,  something  Mrs.  Kehoe  had 
never  observed  in  him  before.  He  touched  not  a single  drop 
to  his  lips. 


478 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


It  struck  the  mind  of  the  operative,  while  he  wrote,  that 
Kehoe  really  believed  in  his  guilt  and  had  determined  to 
silently  and  quietly  put  him  out  of  the  way  with  poison, 
hence  he  had  decided  to  forego  the  potion  so  kindly  brought 
to  him.  He  might  have  been  over-fearful  of  treachery,  at 
that  time,  and  without  just  cause,  but  quickly  following 
events  convinced  him  that  he  was  not,  and  never  could  be, 
too  cautious  while  dealing  with  Jack  Kehoe.  Had  Mrs. 
Kehoe  given  him  the  beverage  with  her  own  hand,  he  would 
have  swallowed  it  without  a suspicion,  as  he  knew  that  she 
was  with  him  in  not  crediting  what  they  said  to  his  dispar- 
agement, and  her  true  womanly  nature  would  not  permit  her 
to  connive  at  his  murder,  even  had  he  been  her  worst 
enemy. 

The  date  mentioned  for  the  proposed  convention  was  ^ 
about  the  first  or  second  of  March,  the  place,  Ferguson’s 
Hall,  in  Shenandoah. 

When  the  work  of  getting  ready  the  notices  was  properly 
finished,  the  result  was  shown  to  Kehoe.  He  approved  and 
sealed  the  envelopes.  They  were  given  into  his  charge  for 
deposit  in  the  mail,  and  he  went  out,  ostensibly  to  drop 
them  in  the  box  at  the  post-ofiice. 

McKenna  remained  at  the  Emerald  House  all  night, 
sleeping  with  his  revolver  close  by  his  side  in  the  bed,  fixed 
for  use,  and,  not  having  been  disturbed,  early  the  ensuing 
morning  took  car  and  returned  to  Pottsville. 

The  report  detailing  these  circumstances  was  of  the  ut- 
most interest  to  me.  I considered  well  the  position  in 
which  the  young  man  was  placed,  and  consented,  for  his 
own  sake,  as  well  as  for  the  good  of  the  Company  and  the 
general  public,  that  he  should  be  arrested  and  thrown  into 
prison.  But,  before  the  order  could  be  carried  out,  the 
necessity  giving  rise  to  it  had  passed  away. 

Beside  Kehoe,  a number  of  other  members  of  the  organi- 
zation informed  McKenna  that  they  had  heard  he  was  a 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


479 


detective,  Pat  Butler,  of  I.oss  Creek,  saying  some  of  his 
men  were  early  let  into  the  secret  and  were  very  earnest  in 
making  a demand  to  have  the  matter  promptly  and  properly 
considered. 

“ I hev  the  decided  advantage  of  them  in  that,”  returned 
; the  operative,  “fur  haven’t  I already  demanded  and  secured 
! the  calling  of  a county  convention,  to  take  action  on  me 
case  ? I have  took  early  action  on  the  matter  by  meself ! 

I Sure,  an’  if  there’s  such  a thing  as  justice  in  the  State,  I’ll 
. hev  the  matin’  an’  a fair  trial  on  them  villainous  charges  ! ” 

I Butler  hoped  he  might  come  through  all  right,  but  was 
I free  to  say  things  appeared  very  stormy,  kindly  advising  the 
j Shenandoah  Mollie  to  keep  an  eye  out  for  those  who  would 
I seek  to  end  the  trouble  easily  by  killing  the  one  suspected, 
thus  saving  the  formality  of  an  investigation.  Butler  showed 
that  he  knew  the  Mollies  thoroughly. 

Saturday,  the  26th  of  February,  Kehoe  made  his  appear- 
ance in  Pottsville,  in  company  with  his  brother-in-law,  Manus 
O’Donnell,  and  the  detective  met  the  County  Delegate 
again  at  Danny  Hughes’  house.  Jack  was  full  of  business, 
having  visited  the  city,  as  he  said,  to  retain  John  W.  Ryon, 
Esq.,  for  the  defense  of  McAllister,  held  with  Munley  for  the 
murder  of  Sanger.  There  was  not  much  transpired  in  the 
way  of  conversation  between  the  King  of  the  Mollies  and 
the  suspected  man,  Kehoe  evidently  being  indignant  with  his 
former  favorite  that  he  had  given  him  further  trouble  and 
work  by  refusing  his  recent  sweet  drop  of  poteen  at  Girard- 
ville. 

In  the  afternoon  the  two  came  together  once  more. 

“ What  is  the  news,  now  ? ” asked  McKenna. 

“The  gettin’  of  a lawyer  for  McAllister  is  goin’  to  cost 
me  two  hundred  dollars,  sure,”  was  the  reply,  “ an’  there 
is  worse  news  nor  that ! I learn  there  are  twenty- five  hun- 
dred men  banded  together  in  this  country  for  the  purpose 
of  prosecuting  the  Ancient  Order,  an’  there  is  positive  proof 


48o 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


that  we  have  detectives  in  our  midst.  These  detectives 
even  gets  money  to  go  arouiV  an’  spend  among  us,  an’  find 
out  all  our  secrets,  an’  will  soon  turn  around  an’  send  us, 
some  of  us,  to  the  penitentiary,  or  hang  us  up  by  the  neck  ! 
That’s  news,  isn’t  it  ? ” 

“ True  to  ye,  that  is,  an’  bad  news — sorry  news  enough  ! 
There  has  been  somethin’  of  the  same  sort  in  me  own  mind 
for  these  many  wakes.  Somethin’  crooked  is  surely  goin’ 
on,  in  wan  place  or  another,  an’  that’s  the  raison  I’m  doubly 
cautious  where  I goes,  or  what  I says  ! But  who  tells  ye 
these  onpleasant  things  the  day?” 

“ I got  them  from  John  W.  Ryon,  this  time,”  answered 
the  County  Delegate.  “ That’s  the  very  man  ! He’s  jist 
afther  idlin’  me  at  his  own  private  office  ! ” 

There  was  no  call  for  the  denial  of  this.  It  did  not 
ap})ly  directly  to  himself,  and  McKenna  was  content  with 
the  remark  that  it  was  possible  Ryon  told  the  truth.  He 
knew,  at  all  events,  something  was  wrong  in  the  coal  region, 
or  there  could  not  be  so  many  arrests.  Whence  came  the 
difficulty  it  was  not  his  province  to  explain.  One  thing  he 
might  do,  and  he  did  it,  which  was  to  again  deny  any  claim 
to  the  despicable  title  of  informer.  Kehoe  left  the  saloon 
in  a few  minutes,  venturing  nothing  in  answer  to  the  last 
words  uttered  by  his  late  associate,  but  with  a sneer  of 
disbelief  on  his  face,  as  though  to  say  he  was  convinced  of 
the  fact  that  there  was  a screw  loose  in  the  Mollie  ma- 
chinery, somewhere,  and  he  entertained  the  belief  that,  if 
McKenna  did  not  know  where  it  was,  nobody  in  the  country 
could. 

Time  rolled  around  and  the  day  preceding  the  one  on 
which  Kehoe  had  promised  the  convention  to  try  McKenna 
arrived.  During  the  forenoon  the  County  Delegate  once 
more  appeared  in  Pottsville,  and  the  accuser  and  accused 
again  met  in  Danny  Hughes’  saloon,  seemingly  on  fair 
terms  with  each  other,  exchanging  civilities  in  a rather 


6-  US  PI  Cl  ON  ARO  USED.  48 1 

distant  but  not  unfriendly  manner,  and  enjoying  a cigar  in 
company. 

“ Are  ye  goin’  up  to  Shenandoah  this  evenin’  ? ” inquired 
Kehoe,  carelessly. 

“ Yes  ! I’m  almost  ready  now,”  answered  McKenna, 
“ an’  I don’t  intind  missing  me  appearance  at  the  con- 
vention for  me  trial,  to-morrow  ! ” 

“ That’s  right ! ” 

Kehoe,  after  this,  said  he  would  see  McKenna  later  in  the 
day  and  they  could  take  the  train  together.  It  was  his  hour 
for  an  interview  with  Ryon.  He  mentioned,  incidentally, 
that  his  wife  was  in  the  city,  seeing  some  friends. 

The  detective  made  his  report  to  the  Agency,  as  usual, 
for  the  day,  spoke  of  encountering  the  County  Delegate,  and 
informed  Mr.  Franklin  that  he  was,  at  a certain  hour  the  same 
evening,  to  stant  for  Shenandoah.  After  mailing  this,  he  re- 
turned to  Hughes’  place  and  particularly  inquired  for  Kehoe. 
No  person  remembered  seeing  him  after  the  conversation 
with  McKenna,  held  some  hours  earlier. 

Before  nightfall  the  officer  found  himself  in  company  with 
a man  named  Mullen,  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  Tuscarora. 
He  had  heard  the  tale  concerning  the  detective  business,  and 
was  fearful  that,  should  there  be  any  truth  in  it — of  which  he 
could  not  judge — there  might  be  danger  in  having  a conven- 
tion at  Shenandoah.  For  his  part,  he  had  done  nothing 
wrong,  and  was  therefore  not  afraid,  but  he  was  lately  listen- 
ing to  the  talk  of  some  others,  who  readily  concluded  that 
McKenna  merely  wanted  to  get  the  officers  and  Bodymasters 
crowded  together,  at  Ferguson’s  Hall,  in  Shenandoah,  when 
he  could  have  the  whole  band  arrested  by  the  Coal  and  Iron 
Police. 

McKenna  scouted  the  idea.  All  he  wanted  was  a hearing. 
He  did  not  care  where  it  occurred.  Using  his  best  endeav- 
ors, he  tried  to  convince  Mullen  that  such  a foolish  scheme 
would  be  illegal,  as  well  as  impossible,  even  though  he  had 
21 


482 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


the  desire  to  execute  it,  which  he  had  not.  Mullen,  at 
last,  seemed  to  be  convinced  of  the  honesty  of  the  accused 
Mollie’s  purpose  in  asking  for  a trial,  and  said  he  would  see 
how  many  of  the  officials  he  could  cause  to  arrive  at  the 
same  understanding. 

Before  starting  for  Shenandoah,  the  accused  sought  out  and 
held  a short  interview  with  Linden,  telling  him,  for  his  sake, 
not  to  have  one  of  his  policemen  in  Shenandoah  on  the  mor- 
row, and  to  keep  out  of  the  city  himself.  A contrary  course,  he 
thought,  would  raise  suspicions  that  Mullen’s  friends  were  cor- 
rect in  their  belief.  Much  against  his  inclination.  Linden 
promised  compliance.  He  knew  McKenna  was  running  a 
great  risk,  and  it  would  have  suited  him  better  to  be  quite 
near,  for  his  protection. 

“ I believe  I can  fight  them  right  through  and  make  them 
believe  that  I am  no  detective ! ” said  McKenna. 

“Very  well!  Do  as  you  please,”  returned  the  Captain, 
but  I fear  they  will  not  be  convinced  ! If  you  come  away 
with  your  life,  you’ll  do  better  than  I expect  I ” 

“ I am  pretty  well  prepared  against  surprises,”  were  the 
last  words  of  McKenna,  “ and  if  they  don’t  overpower  me, 
or  kill  me  with  a shot  from  behind.  I’ll  get  along  all 
correct ! ” 

The  separation  which  ensued  was  not  without  feeling,  as, 
despite  his  defiant  air  and  confident  words,  McParlan  was 
not  perfectly  sure  that  he  would  ever  meet  his  partner 
again.  That  night  he  started  for  Shenandoah  on  the  late 
train,  but  saw  nothing  of  the  County  Delegate. 

McParlan  was  in  the  smoking-car,  just  before  reaching 
Mahanoy  City,  when  Manus  O’Donnell  came  to  him  with 
word  that  Mrs.  Kehoe  was  in  the  ladies’  car  and  desired  to 
see  and  speak  with  him.  He  waited  until  the  train  stopped, 
then  emerged  from  his  coach  and  went  to  the  rear,  entering 
the  one  the  wife  of  Kehoe  occupied.  After  the  usual  salu- 
tations he  inquired  ^vhere  Jack  was,  that  he  had  not  met  him 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


483 


and  journeyed  in  his  company,  according  to  previous  agree- 
ment. She  believed  he  had  gone  up  to  Frackville  on  the 
afternoon  train,  while  she  had  been  to  Tamaqua  to  see  her 
mother.  Returning  to  his  own  seat  the  young  man  began 
to  deliberate.  There  was  certainly  something  suspicious  in 
the  actions  of  his  old  associate — something  he  could  not 
account  for — and  he  made  a mental  resolution  to  be  very 
careful  of  himself.  Not  that  he  knew  anything  particularly 
dangerous  immediately  threatening,  but'^he  was  suspected, 
and  the  Mollies  usually  put  suspected  persons  where  they 
could  do  no  harm.  If  they  would  give  him  a fair  trial,  as 
they  were  in  duty  bound,  he  thought  he  would  move  along 
safely.  But  Kehoe’s  failure  to'  meet  him  and  going  to 
another  place  looked  to  him,  under  the  circumstances,  and 
in  his  excited  mental  condition,  as  though  double  dealing 
was  going  on.  It  would  do  no  harm  to  be  circumspect, 
hence,  when  the  train  slackened  its  speed  and  arrived  at  a 
certain  crossing,  where  he  had  long  been  in  the  habit  of 
alighting,  it  being  a shorter  route  to  his  boarding-house, 
the  detective  kept  his  place,  thought  he  saw — but  was  not 
sure  of  seeing — several  men  standing  by  the  track,  and  rode 
on  until  the  passenger  depot  was  reached.  Kehoe  had  told 
; him  to  be  sure  to  be  up  that  night.  Was  it  possible  some 
il  harm  was  then  intended  ? Without  misadventure,  he 
i alighted,  looked  about  the  depot  building,  and  saw  no  one. 

I He  had  taken  pains  to  send  up  word  to  McAndrew  and  his 
|i  friends  that  he  would  be  there  by  the  evening  express. 
:i  For  a long  time,  whenever  he  was  expected,  there  would  be 
from  three  to  half  a dozen  of  the  members  of  his  division 
l\  ready  in  waiting  to  meet  and  give  him  welcome.  On  this 
|:  particular  occasion  not  a man  sent  him  greeting,  not  a friend 
i made  his  appearance  at  the  platform.^  But  he  thought,  as 
he  walked  up  the  street,  this  might  have  been  accidental, 
I ' or  his  letters  from  Pottsville  had  possibly  miscarried  or  been 
delayed.  It  was  evident  he  was  an  unexpected  or  an 


1 


484 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


unwelcome  visitor.  Which  was  it  ? Many  knew  he  was 
to  be  up  there  that  night.  But  not  a person  was  at  hand  to 
ask  him  the  news  or  go  with  him  to  take  a drink.  Some- 
thing warned  him  all  this  was  caused  by  a change  of  feeling 
on  the  part  of  his  acquaintances. 

As  he  moved  through  the  town  he  did  not  seem  as  secure 
as  he  would  have  felt  in  his  own  room  at  the  Agency,  in 
Philadelphia ; but  he  carried  on  his  person  two  loaded  re- 
volvers, his  nerves  were  steady  and  his  mind  on  the  alert 
for  an  attack.  He  met  some  citizens,  but  no  old  acquain- 
tances who  were  members  of  the  organization. 

When  he  reached  James  McHugh’s  saloon,  he  thought, 
as  he  was  a member,  he  would  speak  with  the  proprietor. 
They  had  always  been  tolerably  good  friends.  McHugh 
was  in  front  of  his  door  and  answered  McKenna,  asking  him 
to  enter  the  bar-room,  which  he  did. 

“ Will  you  have  something  ? ” .said  McHugh. 

“ I don’t  mind  taking  a bottle  of  porter  ! ” answered  the 
agent.  This  was  an  unexpected  response,  as  McKenna  was 
noted  for  seldom  touching  any  of  the  weaker  fluids,  but  Mc- 
Hugh produced  the  bottle  and  fumbled  about  the  cork  ex- 
citedly, his  face  turning  as  white  as  a sheet  meanwhile. 

“ An’  phat  is  the  matther  wid  ye,  Jim  McHugh  ? ” in- 
quired the  visitor.  “ Hev  ye  got  the  shakin’  ager,  been 
sick,  ot  wor  ye  drunk  last  night,  or  what  ? ” 

“Oh,  it’s  only  because  I’m  chilled  through,  standin’  out- 
side ! ” was  the  answer. 

“ Did  ye  hear  what  the  divils  hev  ben  tellin*’  of  me  ? ” 

“ Yes,  McKenna,  I have ; but,  between  you  an’  I,  there’s 
no  truth  in  the  stories  ! I hope  you’ll  come  out  all  right, 
an’  I’ll  be  around  to-morrow,  to  see  what’s  done  at  the  con- 
vention ^ 

It  struck  the  detective  that  McHugh  had  not  exactly 
expected  to  meet  him  in  his  house  that  night.  Could  it  be 
that  a plan  already  made  for  killing  him  had  fallen  through  ? 


SUSPICION  AROUSED. 


485 


But  banishing  all  such  ideas  he  left  the  saloon  and  kept  on 
toward  McAndrew’s  house.  Passing  the  Lehigh  depot  he 
met  another  friend,  Mike  McDermott  by  name,  who  was 
also  a member  of  his  division  and  with  whom  he  had  always 
been  well  disposed  and  rather  friendly.  That  night,  after 
merely  recognizing  the  former  Secretary,  McDermott  hardly 
spoke,  and  passed  along  very  quickly. 

Just  across  the  street  from  him  McKenna  now  saw 
Edward  Sweeney,  another  Mollie,  with  whom  he  had  been 
quite  intimate  since  his  arrival  in  town. 

Is  that  you,  Sweeney?  ” said  McKenna. 

“Yes!  It  fs  me!”  was  the  answer.  Sweeney  was 
standing  just  near  a lamp-post,  but  he  crossed  the  street  and 
joined  the  agent,  who  inquired  : 

“ Have  you  seen  McAndrew  the  night?” 

“Yes,  I have  seen  him  ! ” 

“ How  long  since  ? ” 

“ Not  above  an  hour  ! ” 

“ Do  you  think  he’s  already  gone  to  bed  ? ” 

“ I guess  not  ! ” 

Sweeney  did  not  seem  greatly  inclined  to  talk,  but  con 
tinned  to  stop  by  McKenna’s  side,  only  once  or  twice  drop 
ping  a step  or  two  in  the  rear.  Sweeney  was  a bad  man 
He  did  not  know  fear.  McKenna  had  once  seen  him  walk 
up  to  a party  who  was  drunk  and  threatening  to  kill  every- 
body, and  boldly  take  the  man’s  gun  away  from  him.  If  a 
job  had  to  be  done  Sweeney  was  just  the  person  who  might 
be  selected  to  do  it. 

“ I say,  Sweeney,”  exclaimed  the  operative,  “ I’ve  had  so 
much  trouble  wid  me  eyes,  lately,  that  they  are  none  of  the 
best  and  I don’t  see  very  well ! Will  ye  be  kind  enough  to 
go  on  ahead  and  I can  follow  you  widout  danger  of  runnin’ 
in  the  gutther  or  falling  through  these  holes  in  the  pave- 
\ ment ! ” 

^ “ Certainly  ! ” said  Sweeney,  and  he  walked  before  tho 


486 


MC ANDREW  SAVES  A LIFE. 


operative,  who  made  sure  to  keep  him  at  the  front,  from 
that  time  until  they  arrived  at  McAndrew’s  place.  So  cer- 
tain was  McParlan  that  Sweeney  meant  him  harm  that 
he  had  fully  determined,  if  the  man  turned  suddenly,  to  shoot 
him  down  in  his  tracks.  But  his  companion  did  not  look 
around.  When  McAndrew’s  house  was  reached  a man 
named  Grady  was  posted  outside  and  Doyle  standing  in  the 
yard.  They  evidently  expected  him  to  arrive,  and  having 
waited  his  coming  had  put  a sentinel  at  the  gate  and  another 
by  the  door.  Truly,  this  was  showing  him  altogether  too 
much  consideration.  It  made  him  uncomfortable.  He  did 
not  like  it.  There  was  something  in  it  favoring  the  dark 
and  mysterious. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

MCANDREW  SAVES  A LIFE. 

From  what  occurred  later  McParlan  believed  his  friend 
Sweeney  had  been  waiting  for  his  coming,  when  he  found 
that  person  on  the  street,  near  the  lamp-post.  But  he  said 
nothing,  and  gave  no  marked  attention  to  the  manner  in 
which  McAndrew’s  premises  were  watched,  but  entered  as 
if  everything  had  been  about  as  usual.  McAndrew  received 
him  graciously,  and  yet  with  a degree  of  constraint,  probably, 
as  McKenna  thought,  perfectly  consistent  with  the  changed 
relations  now  existing  between  them.  After  greetings, 
Sweeney  came  into  the  room,  looked  carefully  around,  said 
a few  words,  in  a joking  way,  and  went  outside  again.  He 
remarked  a’s  he  left  the  doorway  that  he  was  going  home, 
but  could  not  have  done  so,  for,  in  a little  while,  he  re- 
entered the  bar,  having  a bit  of  snow  in  his  hand.  Watch- 


MCANBRE IV  SAVES  A LIFE. 


487 


ing  closely  the  movements  of  the  man,  while,  to  all  outward 
intents  and  purposes,  earnestly  engaged  in  smoking  his  pipe 
and  reading  a newspaper,  McKenna  saw  Sweeney  toss  the 
piece  of  snow  toward  McAndrew,  who  was  sitting  by  the 
stove.  McAndrew  looked  up,  stretched  out  his  legs,  yawned 
a little,  gazed  for  one  moment  on  the  face  of  the  detective, 
then  said  : “ My  feet  are  sore  ! I guess  I’ll  take  off  my 
brogues  ! ” 

The  Bodymaster  suited  action  to  his  words  and  proceeded 
to  doff  his  wet  and  heavy  miners’  boots,  and  replace  them 
with  a pair  of  easy  slippers.  At  this,  still  silently  and  care- 
fully observed  by  the- seemingly  absorbed  McKenna,  Sweeney 
curled  his  lip  disdainfully,  and  once  more  left  the  apartment. 
From  the  movements  he  had  seen  the  agent  was  almost  sure 
that  something  had  been  arranged — felt  suspicious  of  every- 
body and  everything — and  the  snow  tossed  by  Sweeney,  and 
the  taking  off  of  Me  Andrew’s  boots,  were,  to  his  excited 
imagination,  signals  having  some  reference  to  his  own  case. 
But  he  had  no  desire  to  let  those  about  him  think  he  was  in 
fear  of  his  life.  It  seemed  far  better  to  put  on  a bold,  defi- 
ant front  and  face  the  music,  which  he  did.  At  last,  his  pipe 
being  out,  he  asked  ; 

“ Well,  McAndrew,  what  about  the  matin’  for  the  morrow  ? 
Be  everythin’  all  ready  ? ’ ’ 

“ Yes  ! I’ve  engaged  the  hall  and  it  is  all  right ! I hope 
there’ll  be  a large  attendance  ! ” 

“ So  do  I ! An’  I don’t  care  how  soon  the  lies  on  me  are 
disposed  of!  It’s  nughty  upsettin’  to  me  nerves  to  have 
such  charges  restin’  again  me  reputation  as  an  Ancient  Order 
man  I ” 

McAndrew  was,  like  Sweeney,  not  in  a talkative  mood, 
and,  after  vainly  attempting  to  draw  him  into  a conversation, 
the  accused  man  bid  his  glum  companion  good  night,  left  the 
house  and  started  on  his  journey  toward  Cooney’s  residence, 
where  he  then  made  his  temporary  home.  Once  well  in  the 


488 


M CAN’D  RE  IV  SAVES  A LIFE. 


street,  he  cast  his  eyes  anxiously  around  in  the  darkness, 
expecting  to  find  Sweeney,  or  some  other  Mollie,  lingering 
in  the  vicinity.  But  he  did  not.  Everything  was  quiet, 
somber,  and  in  doubt.  Something  seemed  to  say  to  him, 
“ Do  not  go  home  by  the  usual  route,  but  take  some  other  ! ” 
and  he  accepted  the  suggestion  as  sensible,  struck  boldly 
into  the  swamp,  at  the  risk  of  losing  his  footing,  getting  wet 
and  muddy,  finally  crossed  over,  and  came  out  in  front  of  his 
boarding-house.  His  heart  felt  appreciably  more  buoyant 
when  he  saw  a light  shining  from  the  window  at  Cooney’s, 
and  he  knew  the  family  were  expecting  him.  He  entered, 
was  cordially  received,  but  soon  retired  to  his  room.  He 
afterward  confessed  to  not  sleeping  much  that  night.  After 
an  unrefreshing  season  in  bed,  he  arose  early,  swallowed  his 
breakfast,  and  went  over  to  see  McAndrew.  Thence  he 
took  a walk  up-town,  meeting  Ned  Monaghan  and  a fellow 
named  Carlin,  the  latter  being  Bodymaster  at  St.  Nicholas. 
Florence  Mahony,  of  Turkey  Run,  was  also  seen,  but  the 
hall  was  otherwise  deserted.  Nobody  seemed  to  come  to 
the  convention,  and  it  struck  the  accused  Mollie  that  Kehoe 
was  surely  playing  him  false,  and  had  never  forwarded  the  no- 
tifications prepared  at  his  house.  A little  after  ten  o’clock,  a 
couple  of  drunken  men  arrived  from  Mt.  Laffee — or  at  least 
one  was  a little  intoxicated  and  the  other  feigned  to  be  so. 
These  fellows,  Dennis  Dowling  and  Mickey  Doyle — not 
Michael  J.  Doyle,  the  Sanger  and  Uren  murderer,  but  another 
person  and  no  relative — said  they  had  just  stepped  off  the 
cars,  when  everybody  in  town  knew  no  trains  of  any  sort 
came  in  at  that  hour.  They  were  Mollies,  and  Dowling  was 
a big,  red-complexioned  man.  After  a time,  all  present 
made  up  their  minds  there  would  be  no  convention,  and 
those  in  the  hall  adjourned  to  McAndrew’ s saloon,  where 
Dowling  asked  McKenna  what  the  meeting  was  about. 

“ Don’t  you  know  ? Didn’t  you  understand  what  you 
were  called  together  fur  ? ” 


MCANDREW  SAVES  A LIFE. 


489 


<<  No  !” 

“Well,  somebody,  I don’t  know  who,  have  said  that  I am 
a detective — which  is  a lie — and  I demanded  a trial  before 
the  assembled  Bodymasters  of  the  county.  Kehoe  granted 
it,  sent  the  orders,  and  here  the  hour  is  past  and  no  conven- 
tion comes.  Even  Kehoe  himself  kapes  away  ! ” 

“ I won’t  believe  the  story  about  yoip.  McKenna,”  ex- 
claimed Dowling.  Thereupon,  to  express  his  peculiar  satis- 
faction, McKenna,  as  was  expected,  invited  the  crowd  to 
drink  with  him.  None  refused  the  chance.  Then  McAn- 
drew  took  McKenna  into  a rear  room  and  left  him  there. 
Doyle,  who  was  drinking  very  hard,  was  soon  very  drunk  and 
some  one  had  to  take  him  away  and  put  him  to  bed. 

The  failure  of  the  convention  was  a great  disappointment 
to  the  agent.  He  readily  charged  the  non-arrival  of  the 
delegates  to  Kehoe’ s door.  It  was  more  than  probable  he 
never  intened  to  grant  an  investigation,  but  had  held  out  the 
inducement  in  order  to  quiet  McKenna,  keep  him  in  the 
locality,  and  manage,  through  some  of  his  cut-throats,  to  have 
him  murdered.  The  suspected  Mollie  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  would  pay  the  County  Delegate  a visit  and  institute 
strict  inquiry  as  to  the  cause  of  the  late  adjournment.  Mc- 
Andrew  insisted  upon  accompanying  him,  and,  in  order’ that 
he  might  have  witnesses,  he  went  out  with  his  Bodymaster, 
hired  horses  and  a sleigh,  and  paid  for  another  cutter  and 
horse  for  Monaghan.  Dowling  accompanied  the  ex-consta- 
ble, McAndrew  and  McKenna  leading  the  way  over  the 
snow-covered  road  to  Girardville. 

“ How  is  this  thing,  any  way,  Frank  ? ” asked  McKenna 
of  McAndrew,  as  the  latter  laid  the  lash  upon  the  horses  and 
they  sped  away  swiftly  over  the  hills.  “ I can’t  understand 
it  at  all ! I am  charged  with  guilt,  am  given  an  investi- 
gation before  a county  committee,  the  matin’  fails,  an’  now 
Ned  Monaghan  and  Dennis  Dowling  are  goin’  wid  us 
to  see  Kehoe  ! What  have  they  to  do  wid  the  subject, 
21* 


490 


MC ANDREW  SAVES  A LIFE. 


when  there’s  no  convention  ? It’s  all  a muddl^  to  me  en- 
thirely  ! ” 

Me  Andrew  was  driving  over  a particularly  rough  piece  of 
road  at  the  moment  and  did  not  answer  until  smooth  travel- 
ing was  reached,  then,  when  well  out  of  the  hearing  of  the 
others,  he  said  : 

“ Look  here,  McKenna,  let  me  say  a word  to  ye  in  confi- 
dence, while  I have  the  opportunity  ! You  had  better  look 
out,  for  that  man,  who  is  riding  in  the  sleigh  behind  you,  cal- 
culates to  take  your  life  ! Dennis  Dowling  is  the  one ! 
Have  you  got  your  pistols  ready  ? ” 

“ Faith  an’  I always  hev  them,  but  little  use  will  they  be 
to  me  if  I get  in  a crowd  an’  Dowling  lets  on  that  I am  to  be 
killed  ! Fur  I know  that  he’ll  find  plenty  to  help  him!  In- 
nocent or  guilty,  it  makes  no  difference  1 ” 

“ Well,  I have  me  revolver  here,  an’  I mean  to  stand  by 
you  ! I’ll  lose  my  life  for  ye  ! I don’t  know  whether  you’re 
a detective  or  not,  but  I have  nothing  against  you ! I 
always  knew  you  to  do  the  right  thing  by  me  an’  those  you 
were  with,  an’  until  proven  a traitor,  which  I can’t  believe  ye 
are.  I’ll  keep  with  you ! Why  don’t  they  try  a man  fairly, 
an’  not  seek  to  take  his  life  on  mere  suspicion  ? ” 

“ I thank  ye,  Frank  McAndrew ! ” was  all  the  detective 
could  say  as  the  slim  hold  he  had  upon  the  things  of  this 
world  was  suddenly  realized.  “ I’ll  sell  me  life  dearly,  as  the 
miscreants  shall  find  if  they  make  a movement  to  attack  me. 
I’ll  kape  a sharp  eye  out  for  Mr.  Dowling  I That  will  I ! *■’ 
From  that  moment,  while  riding,  McParlan  sat  a little  side- 
ways, in  the  cutter,  with  one  eye  upon  the  couple  behind  them. 

When  they  came  to  Anthony  Munley’s  tavern,  the  four  men 
alighted  and  entering  enjoyed  something  to  refresh  the  inner 
man.  But  McKenna  avoided  talking  with  Dowling,  who, 
more  than  once,  endeavored  to  draw  him  into  a wordy  dis- 
pute. With  his  eye  constantly  upon  the  burly  fellow  and  his 
hand  in  his  overcoat  pocket,  where  slept  snugly  one  of  his 


That  man,  who  is  viding  in  the  sleigh  behind you,^  calculates  to  take youc  life : 


MC  AND  RE  IV  SAVES  A LIFE. 


491 


brace  of  trusty  repeaters,  he  mixed  with  the  crowd  and 
chatted  unconcernedly  about  the  general  topics  of  the  day. 
He  was  closely  attended  by  McAndrew,  and  this  was  particu- 
larly noted  by  Dowling,  who  had  no  desire  to  interfere  with 
the  Bodymaster’s  charge  while  thus  under  his  immediate  care. 

After  leaving  Munley’s,  McAndrew  positively  informed 
McKenna  that  he  had  saved  him  from  death,  and  that 
Kehoe,  instead  of  keeping  the  detective  company  on  the  cars, 
as  he  had  promised,  came  to  Shenandoah  by  himself  the 
previous  afternoon.  He  gathered  together  all  the  'Mollies  in 
the  place,  spent  a great  amount  of  money  among  them,  and, 
in  the  presence  of  others,  begged  him,  McAndrew,  for  God’s 
sake,  to  have  that  man,  McKenna,  killed,  or  he  would  hang 
half  the  people  in  Schuylkill  County  ! ” 

“ Did  he  say  that  ? ” 

“ I consented,”  continued  McAndrew,  not  noticing  the 
inquiry,  “and  Kehoe  went  home  satisfied.  I didn’t  know 
but  you  might  be  guilty,  and,  at  first,  I intended  to  act  in 
good  faith  toward  my  agreement  with  Jack,  but  my  heart 
afterward  misgave  me,  and  I couldn’t  do  the  thing  ! I 
wouldn’t  do  it  ! But  others  did  prepare  for  your  arrival  at 
the  crossing,  and  as  they  were  afraid  to  shoot  you,  because 
it  would  make  too  much  noise,  twelve  or  fourteen  of  the 
fellows  gathered  at  the  bank,  knowin’  you’d  be  up  by  the 
late  train — fur  Kehoe  had  told  us  you  were  cornin’ — but  you 
did  not  get  off  then — your  life  was  spared  ; and  I was  very 
thankful  it  was  so  ; and,  from  that  moment,  decided  I would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  affair.  Some  of  the  boys  had 
I hatchets  and  clubs  and  axes,  picks  and  iron  bars,  and  others 
' such  sledges  as  they  use  in  the  mines.  If  you  had  stepped 
i off  the  train,  at  that  place,  you  would  surely  have  been 
killed,  cast  into  a wagon,  which  was  in  waiting  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  then  tossed  down  a deserted’  shaft,  where,  had 
I your  body  ever  been  discovered,  it  would  have  been  sup- 
posed, by  all  exceptin’  your  oath-bound  murderers,  that  you 


492 


MC ANDREW  SAFES  A LIFE. 


had  fallen  in,  in  the  darkness,  and  met  an  accidental  death. 
Kehoe  planned  the  whole  thing,  inspired  the  men  with 
spirits,  an’  then  informed  ’em  you  had  no  relatives  or  friends 
in  the  world,  an’  you  would  never  be  inquired  for  ! But, 
Jim,  to  save  my  sweet  sowl,  I couldn’t  hev  any  hand  in  it, 
an’  I staid  at  me  house,  an’  when  you  jist  popped  in  upon 
me  there,  last  night,  and  I learned  you  had  escaped  the  evil 
gang,  an  Sweeney  hadn’t  been  able  to  kill  you  while  ye 
were  walkin’  wid  him  to  my  place,  I blessed  God  that  I 
hadn’t  stained  me  hands  wid  yer  innocent  blood  ! An’  as 
Sweeney  tossed  the  bit  o’  snow  to  me — I believe  you  saw  it — 
I gave  him  answer,  by  the  takin’  off  me  boots,  that,  so  long 
as  you  were  wid  me,  you  should  be  protected,  and  come  to 
no  harm  ; an’  more’n  that.  I’d  have  no  share  in  the  affair 
from  that  moment  forward.  Sweeney  went  away  mad  ! I 
couldn’t  help  it  ! I was’afraid  they  would  wait  for  ye  over 
night,  or  go  to  Cooney’s  an’  kill  ye,  so,  after  ye  were  out, 
1 watched  ye,  an’  saw  ye  go  across  the  swamp  ; and  then  I 
knew  ye  were  safe  ! Jim,  I mane  to  stand  by  ye  to  the 
last  drop  of  my  blood  ! If  Dowling  undertakes  the  job,  this 
day,  or  Jack  Kehoe  himself  interferes,  they’ll  have  to  get  to 
ye  over  my  dead  body  ! ” 

McParlan  warmly  pressed  the  hand  of  his  friend,  could 
not  speak  his  gratitude,  but  determined  that,  thereafter,  if  he 
could  do  Frank  McAndrew  a good  turn  he  would.  But 
there  was  little  time  for  talk,  and  none  for  forming  schemes. 

“ You’ll  find  I’m  tellin’  ye  the  truth,  and  that  ye  are  in 
queer  company  this  very  minute  ! ” 

“ I don’t  give  a cent ! ” exclaimed  the  detective.  I’m  in 
fur  it,  an’  I am  able,  backed  by  you,  to  defend  meself ! They 
have  accused  me  wrongfully,  an’  I mane  to  have  justice  ! 
I’m  goin’  to  Jack  Kehoe’s  to  face  him  down  in  it ! ” 

McAndrew  smiled. 

“ An’  why  do  ye  laugh  ? It  may  be  fun  for  some,  but  I’m 
in  no  jesting  humor  ! ” 


MCANDREW  SAFES  A LIFE. 


493 


“I  meant  no  harm,  and  was  only  thinkin’  what  Jack  Kehoe 
will  say  or  believe  when  he  sees  ye  marchin’  into  his  house, 
all  alive  an’  well,  when  he  at  this  time  supposes  ye  are  lyin’ 
at  the  bottom  of  the  auld  shaft,  food  for  the  rats  ! ” 

“ I can’t  help  what  he  may  say  or  think  ! I’m  goin’  there, 
sure,  an’  if  he  wants  me  killed  perhaps  he’ll  have  the  bould- 
ness  to  try  the  job  with  his  own  two  hands  ! ” 

In  a few  minutes  the  four  persons  alighted  from  their  re- 
spective conveyances  in  front  of  Kehoe’s  house,  in  Girard- 
ville,  and  McKenna  suddenly  made  his  appearance  before 
the  County  Delegate,  with  McAndrew  at  his  side.  Mona- 
ghan and  Dowling  were  not  far  away.  Never  was  a man 
more  surprised  than  Kehoe.  He  had  twice  essayed  to  clear 
that  troublesome  McKenna  from  his  path,  and  the  last  time 
invoked,  and  thought  he  had  secured  the  assistance  of  so 
many  good  men  at  the  business  that  he  believed  he  could 
not  fail.  Still,  here  was  the  man,  McKenna,  in'  the  flesh, 
unharmed,  and  sternly  confronting  him.  Evidently  his  plans 
had  not  worked  well.  McKenna  still  lived,  and  was  in  com- 
pany with  one  of  the  very  men  who  had  promised  him  to  aid 
in  the  assassin’s  bloody  work.  The  County  Delegate’s  crafty, 
narrow  face  was  as  white  as  a sheet  of  paper,  and  his  whole 
body  shivered  with  an  ague  fit.  It  needed  the  sound  of  Mc- 
Kenna’s voice  to  recall  him  to  himself. 

“Well,  Mister  Kehoe,  what  about  that  county  matin’? 
It  seems  the  Bodymasters  did  not  get  together — at  laste 
only  a few  of  them — an’  me  trial  seems  to  be  a total  failure  ! ” 
Jack  placed  some  tumblers  on  the  counter,  in  a crooked 
row,  took  down  a bottle,  spilled  much  of  its  contents  un- 
tidily over  the  counter,  succeede-d  in  controlling  his  anger, 
resentment,  and  disappointment,  and  answered  : 

“ Well,  you  see,  I came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was 
no  use  in  tryin’  you ” 

“ That’s  what  / thought  at  the  start ! ” interrupted  Mc- 
Kenna. 


494 


MC ANDREW  SAVES  A LIFE. 


“ There  was  little  use  in  gettin’  together  a crowd  at  Shen- 
andoah ! ” 

“ So  you  have  taken  a good  deal  of  trouble  to  see  that  no 
crowd  was  gathered  ? ” 

There’s  no  use  talkin,’  ” answered  Kehoe.  “ The  trial 
can’t  take  place  1 ” 

“ What  am  I to  do,  then  ? Rest  under  this  suspicion  as 
long  as  you  may  choose  to  keep  me  down  ? I’ll  not  do 
it!” 

“If  you’ don’t  desire  to  wait,  you  can  go  to  Father 
O’Connor  about  it  I Maybe  he’ll  tell  you  something  ! ” 

“ I’m  only  wantin’  to  find  out  who  makes  up  these  lyin’ 
charges  I That  I want  to  know  ! The  story  of  the  con- 
ductor on  the  train  is  a downright  lie  I It’s  too  thin  I You 
never  heard  such  a thing,  but  have  got  it  up  in  order  to  have 
me  put  out  of  your  way  I ” 

“ Go  to  Father  O’Connor  1 It’s  all  I have  fo  say  I ” 

And  Kehoe  turned  aside  and  spoke  to  others.  But  he 
kept  his  unsteady  eye  on  McKenna. 

“ Well,  I’ll  go  to  Father  O’Connor  1 He’ll  do  me  justice 
widout  doubt  ! An’,  Misther  Kehoe,  look,  here  a little!” 
and  the  detective  pulled  his  two  heavy  pistols  from  behind 
his  back  and  again  thumped  the  counter  with  their  butts, 
loudly  enforcing  attention  to  his  speech  : 

“ I don’t*  care  for  you,  or  fur  any  wan  here,  or  in  the 
county  ! I’m  an  innocent,  ill-used  man,  an’  ye  are  tryin’  to 
have  me  shot;  but  listen  to  this!  I’m  all  ready,  an’  v/ill 
sell  me  chances  at  the  highest ! I’ll  go  see  Father  O’Con- 
nor, an’  then  possibly  I’ll  have  a settlement  wid  you.  Jack 
Kehoe  ! ” 

Seeing  that  McKenna  was  becoming  excited,  and  not 
knowing  but  Dowling  might  pluck  up  courage  to  shoot 
while  in  the  room,  McAndrew  seized  his  friend  by  the  arm, 
advised  him  to  put  up  his  pistols,  and  walked  with  him  out 
of  the  place.  He  was  right  in  this,  as  Phil  Nash,  Dave 


MC  AND  RE  IV  SAFES  A LIFE, 


495 


I 

I 

! 

ii 

1- 


f 

I 


Kelly  and  Tom  Donahue,  beside  Dowling  and  Monaghan, 
had  gathered  there,  any  one  of  whom,  had  Kehoe  said  the 
word,  would  have  finished  the  trouble  with  a pistol  shot  from 
the  rear.  McAndrew  talked  the  matter  over  with  the 
others,  after  McKenna  was  once  in  the  sleigh,  and  it  was 
determined  to  drive  to  Father  O'Connor’s  house  at  once. 

When  the  four  men,  McKenna,  McAndrew,  Monaghan, 
and  Dowling,  reached  Callaghan’s  place,  at  Mahanoy  Plane, 
who  should  be  there  ahead  of  them  but  Phil  Nash  and  Tom 
Donahue.  It  was  suspicious,  the  detective  thought,  but 
said  nothing.  They  had  heard  that  McKenna  was  going  to 
see  Father  O’Connor,  but  might  possibly  have  had  other 
business  at  the  Plane.  Donahue  and  Nash  took  McAndrew 
some  distance  away,  and  held  quite  a talk  with  him.  The 
agent  was  on  the  alert,  and  saw,  from  their  gesticulations, 
that  the  two  men  were  endeavoring  to  induce  his  friend  to 
do  something*  but  he  obstinately  refused.  Dowling  and 
Monaghan  finally  joined  the  group  and  the  remonstrances 
with  McAndrew  were  resumed. 

While  the  rest  were  talking,  McKenna  went  to  Father 
O’Connor’s  house  with  Callaghan,  but  was  told  the  priest 
was  absent  in  Philadelphia,  and  not  expected  back  until  the 
next  day.  By  the  time  he  got  back  the  sleigh  was  ready. 
Dowling  was  very  drunk  and  McAndrew  in  haste  to  leave. 
They  entered  the  cutter  and  started,  followed  by.  Monaghan 
alone,  as  Dowling  \^s  too  much  overcome  to  take  along. 

“ What  was  the  matter  at  Callaghan’s  ?”  inquired  McKenna. 

“ The  same  thing,”  was  McAndrew’s  reply.  “ They  wanted 
to  kill  you  right  here  ! Dowling  tried  hard  to  have  me  lend 
him  my  revolver!  But  I wouldn’t  allow  it ! Had  they  suc- 
ceeded in  disarming  me,  you  could  not  have  lived  one 
minute.  I would  be*  unable  to  defend  you,  and  not  another 
in  the  crowd  would  interfere.  Dowling  was  armed,  but  he 
didn’t  want  to  hurt  me,  and  I told  them  sternly  they  couldn’t 
have  their  way  wid  you  while  I lived.” 


496 


MCANDREW  SAFES  A LIFE. 


“I  was  on  the  watch  for  Dowling,”  said  the  operative, 
“ and  had  he  made  a motion  toward  me,  I’d  have  shot  him ! 
My  life  is  as  dear  to  me  as  that  of  another  man  to  him,  an’ 
I’ll  not  be  murdered  widout  hurting  some  of  them  ! ” 

But  Dowling  was  too  much  intoxicated  to  do  anything,  and 
Monaghan,  becoming  disgusted,  drove  off  and  left  him.  Hav- 
ing failed  to  extract  any  satisfaction  from  Kehoe,  or  see 
Father  O’Connor,  McAndrew  and  McKenna,  still  accompa- 
nied by  Monaghan,  drove  directly  to  Shenandoah.  By  the 
time  they  reached  McAndrew’ s saloon,  after  putting  up  their 
teams  and  settling  the  livery  bill,  it  was  night.  McAndrew 
took  the  operative  to  his  home,  where  he  remained  undis- 
turbed until  his  bedtime,  when  he  started  up  to  return  to 
Cooney’s,  thinking  he  would  again  take  the  route  through 
the  swamp. 

“ Good  night,  Frank  ! ” said  McKenna.  “ It’s  time  for 
me  to  be  joggin’  ! ” 

“ Where  to  ? ” 

“ To  me  boarding-house,  av  coorse  ! ” 

“ Not  to-night ! ” replied  McAndrew,  earnestly. 

“ An’  why  not  ? ” 

“ Never  mind  why  not ; but  you  are  to  sleep  wid  me  I 
My  wife  is  away  from  home.  There’s  plenty  of  room,  an  we 
are  to  be  bedfellows  ! ” 

And  the  detective  did  sleep  at  McAndrew’s,  and,  as  the 
reader  may  well  suppose,  was  very  glad  of  the  opportunity. 
Nothing  occurred,  however,  to  disturb  the  two  men. 

The  ensuing  morning,  by  the  first  train,  McParlan  returned 
to  Pottsville,  made  out  and  mailed  his  report,  and  found  a 
chance  to  communicate  piivately  with  Capt.  Linden.  He 
had  appointed  to  meet  McAndrew  at  Mahanoy  Plane  the 
afternoon  of  that  day.  Once  more  Linden  urged  him  not 
to  go  without  being  shadowed  by  him,  as  he  was  sure  they 
were  laying  plans  for  killing  him.  The  operative  said  he 
would  make  one  more  attempt  to  prove  his  character  good 


THE  LAST  OF  MC HENNA, 


497 


before  the  priest.  Then,  if  unsuccessful,  he  could  either 
abandon  that  course  or  allow  his  friend  to  keep  him  under 
surveillance. 


« 

CHAPTER  XLVII. 

THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 

When  the  detective,  in  accordance  with  his  promise,  ap- 
peared that  afternoon  at  Mahanoy  Plane,  he  encountered 
Dennis  Dowling  and  Tom  Donahue  still  hanging  about 
Callaghan’s  saloon.  Both  were  a little  more  sober  than  on 
the  previous  day,  but  not  a whit  the  less  inclined  to  pick  a 
quarrel  with  the  man  whose  life  they  sought.  It  should  be 
explained  here  that  this  man,  Donahue,  was  neither  “Yel- 
low Jack  ” Donahue,  nor  was  it  the  Tom  Donahue,  of 
Girardville,  who  had  accompanied  McKenna  on  his  visit  to 
Pat  Hester’s  daughter,  but  a man  in  no  way  related  to  either 
of  those  mentioned.  McAndrew  arrived  there  also,  true  to 
appointment,  saying  he  was  in  to  see  the  affair  through.  It 
was  fortunate  for  McKenna  that  he  had  such  valuable  assist- 
ance. Had  he  gone  to  the  place  alone  it  is  more  than  proba- 
ble he  would  have  disappeared  and  no  one  ever  been  the 
wiser.  When  they  were  by  themselves,  McAndrev/  re- 
marked : 

“It  was  well  that  you  stopped  at  my  house,  last  night. 
If  you  had  returned  home,  as  you  intended,  I should  never 
have  seen  you  again  alive.  I met  Cooney  to-day,  and  he 
says  men  were  waiting  for  you,  and  watching  all  through  the 
night ! They  knocked  at  the  door,  asked  if  they  could  stay 
there,  were  refused,  but,  kept  coming  and  going  until  broad 
daylight,  when  they  got  away  ! They  left  an  old  carpet- 


498 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


sack,  and  other  things,  on*  the  ground  near  the  fence,  to 
make  it  appear  they  were  tramps,  but  Mrs.  Cooney  thinks, 
although  they  were  well  disguised,  that  she  recognized  one 
of  the  fellows  as  a resident  of  Shenandoah. 

“ Faith,  an’  I am  beholden  to  ye  once  more,  McAndrew ! 
When  can  I ever  repay  your  kindness  ? I will  try  to  do  all 
that  I can,  whenever  I hev  the  chance  ! ” 

“ Oh,  that’s  all  right ! ” returned  the  young  man. 

Again  the  visit  to  Father  O’Connor  was  unsuccessful,  as 
that  person  had  not  yet  arrived  from  Philadelphia.  Return- 
ing to  Callaghan’s,  McKenna  reported  his  want  of  success. 
McAndrew,  Dowling,  and  the  rest  were  talking  together, 
but  no  one  offered  him  any  violence.  Bidding  all  “ good 
night,”  he  went  to  Pottsville  once  more.  He  did  not  feel 
that  there  was  any  actual  necessity  for  going  to  Shenandoah 
again  that  day.  In  fact,  it  occurred  to  him  that,  thereafter, 
it  might  be  as  well  to  have  somebody,  upon  whose  aid  he 
could  count,  along  with  him  whenever  he  made  the  journey. 

I had  telegraphed  word  to  Mr.  Franklin  to  have  the  de- 
tective clear  his  record,  even  at  further  risk,  by  persevering 
until  he  saw  Father  O’Connor,  but,  as  matter  of  precaution, 
Mr.  Linden  should  never  leave  him  while  there  seemed  the 
least  danger  that  he  would  run  into  serious  trouble. 

The  operative,  meantime,  became  convinced,  through  cir- 
cumstances brought  to  his  knowledge,  that  the  Mollies  had 
penetrated  his  disguise — seen  his  cards.  Somebody  had 
given  them  information  about  him.  Who  it  was,  he  could 
not  tell.  But  that  they  were  satisfied  of  his  double  part,  he 
was  well  aware.  Nevertheless  he  said  : 

“ I’ll  go  to  Mahanoy  Plane  jusfonce  more  ! Then,  if  all 
is  not  made  straight,  you’ll  see  me  leave  this  country  ! ” 

It’s  according  to  orders,  I see,  and,  as  I am  to  be  with 
you,  I shall  feel  better  about  it ! ” said  Linden. 

Linden  prepared  for  the  journey,  and,  the  next  day,  which 
was  Saturday,  the  fifth  of  March,  after  writing  to  Mr.  Frank- 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


499 


lin,  saying  he  was  to  go  to  Mahanoy  Plane,  to  see  Father 
O’Connor,  and  adding  : ‘‘  If  I am  killed,  Jack  Kehoe  is  my 

I murderer,”  McParlan  took  the  noon  train  for  the  place  des- 
ignated. Linden  was  aware  of  the  localities  the  operative 
would  visit  and  at  no  time  permitted  him  to  stray  far  from 
Ji  his  presence.  This  time  Father  O’Connor  was  found  at  his 
»|  residence. 

Callaghan  was  invited  to  go  with  him  to  interview  the 
1^'  clergyman,  but  refused,  saying  he  had  already  been  there 
too  many  times.  Beside,  he  and  Father  O’Connor  had 
r passed  some  sharp  words  regarding  a sermon  which  the 
f priest  had  delivered  about  the  Mollie  Maguires,  or  Ancient 
(;  Order  of  Hibernians.  So  the  accused  Mollie  was  forced  to 
Si  go  alone — excepting  that  Linden  kept  him  in  view.  He 
I entered  the  house  and  was  told  the  reverend  gentleman 
would  see  him  in  a moment.  While  sitting  in  a room, 
ri  waiting,  McKenna  heard  footsteps  in  the  hallway  and  then 
t came  the  voice  of  a man  speaking.  He  recognized  the 
tone  as  belonging  to  one  of  the  Mollies  of  the  Mahanoy 
i;  Plane  Division.  Listening  intently,  he  thought  a chair  was 
::  drawn  along  the  wall  until  near  tlTe  door.  Evidently  some 

l{  one  was  preparing  to  hear  every  word  that  passed  between 
1 himself  and  the  priest.  This  was  enough  to  put  him  on  his 
fj  guard  and  prompt  the  use  of  no  language  which  would  com- 
promise him  in  the  eyes  of  the  Mollie  Maguires.  Soon 
Father  O’Connor  arrived,  and  McKenna  civilly  addressed 
ii  him  : 

I 

! “I  am  James  McKenna,  Father  O’Connor!  I suppose 
I you  have  heard  many  ill  things  about  me  before  this,  but  I 
I am  not  quite  sure  that  I am  as  bad  as  reported.  I know  I 
am  not  what  you  have  represented  me  to  be,  a detective, 

. spy,  informer  ! In  tellin’  me  friends  this,  you  hev  hurt  me 
I above  remedy.  I’m  no  detective  I The  order  I belongs  to 
1 is  a good  wan — but  its  members  are,  some  of  them,  charged 
I wid  crimes — an’  they’ll  kill  me  *if  they  think  I’m  in  league 


500 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


wid  their  enemies,  which  I surely  am  not ! They  are  now 
quietly  engaged  in  seekin’  means  of  accomplishing  me 
injury.  You  can  stop  it  by  saying  that  it  is  not  true ; that 
ye  don’t  belave  the  tale  told  on  me  ! I beg  you  to  con- 
sider ! I stands  up  for  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hibernians, 
everywhere  ! They  are  the  right  sort ! I hev  belonged  to 
’em  for  seventeen  years,  and  never  saw  anything  wrong  in 
them.  Bishop  Wood,  an’  all  the  rest,  are  astray  in  con- 
demning them,  an’  if  they’ll  only  give  us  time  we’ll  prove 
that  we  are  not  murderers  and  incendiaries  an’  all  that’s 
wicked  ! ” 

“ I have  heard  about  you,  young  man,”  calmly  answered 
the  priest,  “ and  the  language  used  need  not  be  repeated. 
I assure  you,  however,  that  I have  never  used  your  na7ne  in 
connection  with  that  of  a detective  ! I confess  I heard  that 
you  were  a detective,  and  although  I did  not  know  you, 
I thought  you  might  be,  on  occasion,  cognizant  of  crimes 
long  before  their  perpetration  ; crimes  that  I thought  you 
should  have  prevented  ; and  in  doing  as  you  did  you  acted 
as  a stool-pigeon — a common  phrase  among  men — and  took 
part  in  bad  acts  in  lieu 'of  giving  word  to  the  authorities 
and  having  the  perpetrators  arrested  and  punished.  I ac- 
knowledge I wrote  a letter  to  John  Kehoe,  and  gave  it  to  a 
party  to  deliver.  It  was  not  sent,  but  brought  back  to  me. 
I have  told  these  unfortunate  men  that  their  time  would 
surely  come,  that  death  would  yet  be  their  fate,  and  now 
they  see  that  I gave  them  good  counsel.  They  would  not 
listen  to  my  voice,  would  not  leave  their  organization,  and 
they  must  abide  by  the  consequences.  I can  do  no  more 
for  them.  You  can  go  to  Father  Ryan,  of  Mahanoy  City, 
and  Father  O’Reilly,  of  Shenandoah,  as  they  know  more 
about  it  than  I do.  I learned  of  the  detective  matter 
only  recently,  and  have  been  to  Philadelphia  to  see  how  your 
relations  are  with  another  party.  I need  not  name  the  man, 
for  I found  out  nothing.  You  were  seen  around  the  vicinity 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


SOI 

— or  in  Tamaqua — about  the  time  Kelly  and  Doyle  were 
arrested.  You  kept  Kerrigan’s  company,  just  before  Jones 
was  shot ! ” 

“ But,  indade,  I had  business  in  Tamaqua,  Father  O’Con- 
nor ! I wor  sparkin’  Kerrigan’s  sister-in-law  ! ” 

This  provoked  a smile  on  the  priest’s  face. 

Well,  if  that  was  all,  there  was  nothing  wrong  in  it ; you 
had  a right  to  pay  attention  to  the  young  lady  if  you  liked  !” 

“ Of  course  I know  that ! An’  to  get  the  good-will  of  the 
sister-in-law,  sure,  didn’t  I hev  to  spark  Kerrigan  jist  a 
little  ? ” 

Here  some  other  persons  wanted  to  see  the  clergyman, 
and  McKenna  took  his  leave,  promising  to  visit  the  other 
priests  and  have  the  tangle  straightened  out,  notifying  Father 
O’Connor  of  it,  so  that  he  might,  if  he  would,  make  due 
notice  to  the  members  of  his  congregation.  The  pastor 
stated  that,  when  he  was  satisfied,  he  would  be  very  happy 
to  make  a public  correction. 

But  McKenna  had  no  idea  of  going  to  see  Fathers  Ryan 
and  O’Reilly.  He  had  had  quite  enough  of  that  kind  of 
work. 

McKenna  was  careful  to  speak  loud  while  complimenting 
the  Mollie  Maguires,  so  that  the  eavesdropper  might  hear  this 
part  of  the  conversation  if  nothing  else.  As  he  went  out  at 
one  door,  he  knew  that  Martin  Dooley  made  his  exit  at 
another,  and,  had  he  given  out  anything  derogatory  to  the 
order,  he  would  never  have  escaped  with  his  life. 

After  visiting  Callaghan’s,  and  telling  the  crowd  assembled 
there  that  he  had  seen  Father  O’Connor,  and  it  was  all  right, 
he  agreed  to  have  an  interview  with  Father  O’Reilly,  at 
Shenandoah,  the  next  day,  and  then  took  his  final  leave. 
While  on  his  way  out  of  the  village  the  agent  encountered 
Dooley,  who  quickly  commenced  to  laugh.  He  was  glad  it 
was  not  Tom  Donahue  and  Dowling  he  had  met. 

“ Phat  are  you  afther  laughin’  about  ? ” asked  McKenna. 


502 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA, 


“ Oh,  I heard  ivery  word  of  it ! ” 

“ Every  word  of  what  ? ” 

“ That  passed  while  you  was  closeted  wid  P'ather  O’Con- 
nor ! ” 

“ For  shame  ! Wor  you  list’ning  ? ” 

“ Sure,  an’  I was  ! ” 

“ Well,  didn’t  I tell  him  some  things  about  the  society  that 
not  every  gorsoon  would  have  known  ? ” 

“ That  you  did  ! Didn’t  you  give  the  order  a lift,  tho’  ? ” 
“ That  wor  me  rale  intention  ! ” 

“ An’  you  have  been  a member  for  seventeen  years,  eh  ? 
You  told  the  whole  truth  about  the  A.  O.  H. — or  the  Mollies 
— but  I don’t  believe  you  did  about  the  age  of  your  member- 
ship ! ” 

Dooley  seemed  highly  pleased,  and  reported  to  all  the 
men  at  Callaghan’s  that  he  never  heard  a man  talk  better 
sense  to  anybody  than  Jim  McKenna  put  before  Father 
O’Connor,  during  their  short  interview.  The  crowd  changed 
their  feelings  toward  the  agent,  and  were,  at  the  moment, 
more  inclined  to  doubt  Kehoe  than  McKenna.  Dowling 
was  quite  drunk,  as  usual,  but  managed  to  pub  in  : 

“It’s  a mystery  to  me.  anyhow  ! I can’t  tell  what  to  make 
of  that  fellow  in  the  blue  clothes  ! He’s  a counterfeiter,  a 
thief,  a gentleman,  a singer  of  songs  and  dancer  of  jigs,  an’, 
be  gorra,  now  they  say  he’s  a detective  ! It’s  a long  way 
beyond  me  thoughts  ! I gives  it  up  ! I gives  it  up  ! ” 

And  Dowling  called  all  hands  to  the  bar,  which  was  satis- 
factory to  the  landlord,  at  least. 

Notwithstanding  the  detective  had  carried  himself  manfully 
before  his  foes,  bearded  Kehoe  in  his  den,  faced  the  priestly 
accuser,  and  defied  the  select  band  of  assassins,  now,  while 
he  knew  that  Linden  was  somewhere  within  sight  of  him — in 
truth  he  was  in  Mr.  Davis’  office,  close  at  hand,  all  the  while 
he  had  been  with  the  priest,  and  even  then  was  ^tracing  Mc- 
Kenna’s footsteps  at  a safe  distance — as  he  made  fast  time 


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“Lhiden  was  si„cl  some  distance  behind,  but  7uaking good  time  to  catch  tip  with  the  Dutchman's  horses^ 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


503 


toward  Frackville,  and  the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the  west,  a 
feeling  of  dread  came  over  him,  a chilliness  ran  in  his  veins, 
which  was  nigh  unto  fear,  and  he  walked  faster  than  he  had 
in  a long  tinie.  Fortunately  he  overtook  a Dutchman,  driv- 
ing to  Frackville,  and  McKenna,  not  wishing  to  be  caught  in 
the  dark  on  the  mountains,  asked  the  driver  if  he  would  give 
him  a ride.  The  Dutchman  consented,  stopped  his  team, 
and  the  detective  mounted  the  seat  by  his  side,  saying  : 

“ I’m  in  a very  great  hurry  ! 1 hev  a dispatch  that  me 

sisther  is  just  dying,  at  Pottsville  beyant,  an’  I fear  I may 
not  get  to  the  train  in  sayson  ! ” 

“ I’ll  drive  a little  faster  ! ” said  the  obliging  fellow,  and  he 
applied  his  black-snake  whip  to  the  animals’  flanks  and  they 
went  flying  up  the  steep  road,  while  Linden  was  some 
distance  behind,  but  making  good  time,  to  catch  up  with  the 
Dutchman’s  horses.  McKenna  looked  back,  and  after  a 
while,  seeing  his  friend,  told  the  Jehu  that  he  thought  there 
was  no  need  of  such  hot  haste,  as  they  would  probably  get 
to  the  depot  in  time.  But  poor  Linden  had  to  walk  all  the 
way,  and  was  glad  enough  when  he  saw  the  end  of  the  jour- 
ney. Both  operatives  took  the  same  train  for  Pottsville,  but 
were  careful  not  to  be  seen  communicating,  and  the  next 
morning  McKenna  wfent  by  train  to  Philadelphia,  no  more  to 
return  as  James  McKenna.  This  was  therefore,  theoreti- 
cally, if  not  in  fact,  the  end  of  that  personage  so  long  known 
to  the  coal  region  and  to  the  reader.  No  more  would  he  ap- 
pear as  the  wild  Irishman  of  Shenandoah.  When  he  again 
visited  the  locality — if  he  went  there  at  all — it  would  be  in 
his  true  character  of  James  McParlan,  the  detective. 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  trials  of  the  Mollies  already 
arrested.  While  he  did  not  testify  in  the  Kelly  and  Doyle 
cases,  in  March,  1876,  at  Mauch  Chunk,  McParlan  was  much 
in  the  locality  and  furnished  very  valuable  information,  great- 
ly assisting  the  prosecution  in  their  legal  warfare  upon  the 
Mollie  Maguires. 


504 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


In  April,  1876,  I went  to  Philadelphia,  and  held  another 
long,  interesting  and  profitable  consultation  with  Mr.  F.  B. 
Go  wen  and  Superintendent  Franklin.  They  had  for  some 
time  been  urging  upon  me  the  necessity  for  placing  McParlan 
on  the  witness  stand.  With  his  assistance,  I could  easily  see 
that  many  convictions  might  be  made  which,  without  his  aid, 
never  could  occur.  Still  there  was  in  my  mind  the  verbal 
agreement  I had  entered  into,  nearly  three  years  before,  in 
my  office  in  Chicago,  that  he,  the  operative,  should  not  be 
called  upon  to  go  before  a court  and  give  testimony.  I 
would  not  go  behind  that  statement,  and  was  determined 
never  to  make  the  attempt.  It  was  true  that  McParlan’s 
usefulness  as  a detective  in  the  coal  region  was  gone,  through 
the  discovery  which  had  been  made  rendering  his  departure 
from  that  part  of  Pennsylvania  imperatively  necessary. 

Calling  the  detective  to  me,  in  my  private  office,  we  held 
an  earnest  and  prolonged  interview.  Without  saying  any- 
thing to  bias  his  mind,  I plainly  stated  the  situation,  and 
asked  him  to  consider  whether  it  was  better  for  him  to  go 
upon  the  stand  or  not.  He  could  do  as  he  chose,  and  I 
would  remain  firmly  with  him  to  the  last.  For  some  mo- 
ments McParlan  sat,  with  his  head  bowed  down,  seemingly 
in  deep  thought,  saying  nothing.  He  then  raised  his  eyes, 
and  replied  : 

“ You  remarked,  just  now,  that  Mr.  Gowen  would  like  to 
see  me  ! ” 

“ Yes,  he  so  stated.” 

“ Well,  I can  decide  what  is  best  to  be  done,  after  talking 
with  him.” 

I then  visited  Mr.  Gowen’ s house,  where  he  was  confined 
from  sickness.  He  appointed  a time  when  McParlan  and  I 
should  meet  him.  We  did  meet  him,  at  my  office,  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  we  held  further  talk  over  the  matter.  Mr. 
Gowen  informed  McParlan  that  all  he  desired  was  simply  to 
bring  the  guilty  men  to  justice.  In  his  own  quiet,  business- 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


505 


like  manner,  he  placed  the  full  circumstances  oi  the  case 
before  him,  offering,  however,  no  hope  of  future  or  present 
reward,  but  describing  plainly  the  duty  he  thought  he  owed 
to  the  public.  When  Mr.  Gowen  was  through,  McParlan 
thought  over  the  subject  for  at  least  five  minutes,  none  of  us 
speaking,  and  Mr.  Gowen  and  I almost  breathlessly  awaiting 
the  result.  At  last  McParlan  said  : 

I will  come  out  in  my  true  character  as  a detective, 
speak  the  truth  in  all  the  cases,  wherever  needed,  and,  so 
help  me  God,  every  assistance  that  I can  give  shall  be  ren- 
dered ! Nothing  shall  be  held  back.  With  God’s  aid,  I 
may  be  the  means  of  doing  much  good  ! ” 

Mr.  Gowen  then  left,  and  arrangements  were  made  to 
•carry  out  the  decision. 

I had  consented,  with  this  proviso,  that,  as  soon  as  he 
should  visit  the  coal  region,  and  from  that  time  until  the  pre- 
cautions were  all  ended,  he  would  place  himself  constantly, 
day  and  night,  under  the  especial  care  of  two  of  my  bravest 
and  most  courageous  men,  who  should  be  properly  armed, 
and  instructed  to  give  him  protection  wherever  he  went. 
He  did  not  deem  this  precaution  at  all  necessary.  I did, 
and  McParlan  agreed  to  it.  Messrs.  Gilchrist  and  Deacons, 
able  and  determined  officers,  have  since  that  date  acted  as 
his  guardsmen.  That  this  was  needful,  several  facts  after- 
ward transpiring  abundantly  prove.  While  two  men  would 
have  been  of  little  use  in  a combined  attack,  or  if  an  assas- 
sin might  come  upon  them  suddenly  in  the  night,  I knew 
the  Mollies  would  soon  be  so  demoralized  that  the  first 
would  not  occur,  and  no  man  would  be  willing  to  take  the 
risk  of  killing  another  whom  he  knew  was  constantly  under  the 
eye  of  armed  and  watchful  guardians.  The  fact  that  he  had 
to  move  about  the  streets  of  Pottsville,  Mauch  Chunk,  or 
Bloomsburg,  protected  by  armed  men,  was  galling  to  the 
detective’s  pride,  but  he  finally  began  to  see  the  demand 
for  such  care  of  himself,  and  never  tried  to  evade  those 
22 


5o6 


rilE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


guarding  him.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  his  life  would 
long  since  have  been  sacrificed,  had  I adopted  a more  reck- 
less course,  which  1 never  contemplated  doing. 

Making-arrests  now  begun  in  earnest,  Mr.  Linden  having- 
been  duly  authorized  to  attend  to  this  department  of  the 
business  under  the  direction  and  advice  of  Mr.  Franklin,  the 
district  attorneys,  and  assisted  by  McParlan.  Capture  fol- 
lowed swiftly  upon  capture,  commencing  on  the  fourth  of 
February,  1876,  when  Alexander  Campbell,  Bodymaster  at 
Lansford,  Carbon  County,  was  apprehended,  charged  with 
the  murder  of  John  P.  Jones,  Sept,  3d,  of  the  same  year. 

On  the  fifth  of  the  same  month,  Hugh  McGehan,  of  Car- 
bon County,  was  arrested  for  the  Yost  murder,  committed 
at  Tamaqua,  July  6,  1875.  J'T-uies  Boyle  was  taken  on  the 
sixth  and  the  caiiture  of  James  Roarty,  Bodymaster  at  Cole- 
dale,  Schuylkill  County,  occurred  on  the  seventh.  On  the 
eighth,  James  Carroll,  of  Tamaqua,  then  acting  as  Bodymas- 
ter at  Tamaqua,  was  lodged  in  prison.  There,  on  the  ninth, 
he  was  joined  by  his  coadjutor  in  the  murder  of  B.  F.  Yost, 
Thomas  Duffy,  of  Reevesdale.  The  last  named  was  cap- 
tured while  at  work,  at  Buckville. 

The  six  murderers  mentioned  above  were  taken,  one  after 
the  other,  and  so  sudden  was  the  descent  upon  them  that 
they  did  not  have  a moment’s  warning,  and  the  greatest 
excitement  resulted  throughout  the  coal  region.  Not  only 
were  the  Mollies  themselves  greatly  agitated,  but  the  people 
of  the  vicinity  arose  in  a mass  and  threats  of  lynching  the 
prisoners  were  freely  indulged  in.  Owing  to  the  admirable 
arrangements  of  Capt.  Linden,  ably  seconded  by  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police  and  local  officials, 
everything  passed  off  quietly,  in  a little  while,  and  all  of  the 
defendants  were  safely  lodged  in  Pottsville  jail.  Writs  of 
habeas  corpus  were  promptly  taken  out,  made  returnable 
on  the  thirteenth  of  February.  On  that  day.  Linden  took 
James  Kerrigan  away  from  the  Carbon  County  jail,  at 


THE  LAST  OF  MCKENNA. 


507 


Mauch  Chunk,  in  a special  car,  and  landed  him  safely  in 
Pottsville,  ready  for  the  hearing  on  the  writ.  The  crowd  at 
the  court-house  was  so  overpowering  that  President  Judge 
Pershing  declined  to  enter  upon  the  case,  and  the  numbers 
of  citizens  present  had  to  be  forcibly  diminished  before  the 
cause  could  go  on.  Trouble  was  anticipated  at  this'  time 
from  the  Mollie  Maguires,  who  were  on  the  spot  in  crowds, 
and,  while  Capt.  Linden  was  taking  Kerrigan  to  the  carriage 
in  waiting,  a member  of  the  order,  named  Thomas  Waldron, 
cried  out,  alluding  to  Kerrigan,  “ Drown  the  scoundrel  ! 
Drown  him  ! ” A nod  to  one  of  the  officers  in  attendance 
was  sufficient,  and  Mr.  Waldron  was  promptly  arrested, 
taken  before  a magistrate,  and  put  under  bail.  This  quick 
settlement  of  his  case  quieted  the  order,  and  no  further 
trouble  occurred. 

On  the  tenth  of  February  followed  the  arrest  of  Thomas 
Munley,  of  Gilberton,  on  the  affidavit  of  Capt.  Linden,  for 
the  murder  of  Thomas  Sanger,  and  Wm.  Uren,  at  Raven 
Run,  as  related  in  these  pages. 

On  the  fourth  of  May,  1876,  the  trial  of  James  Carroll, 
Thomas  Duffy,  James  Roarty,  Hugh  McGehan,  and  James 
P)Oyle,  for  the  murder  of  B.  F.  Yost,  was  commenced  in 
Pottsville,  before  a full  bench  of  Hon.  C.  L.  Pershing,  D. 
B.  Green,  and  T.  H.  Walker.  The  jury  was  composed  of 
the  following  gentlemen  : Joel  H.  Betz,  Thomas  Bomboy, 

O.  Miller,  William  Becker,  Lewis  Maul,  Levi  Stein,  Paul 
Artz,  Amos  Forsman,  Daniel  Yeager,  Benjamin  Weller, 
Jules  Kurten,  and  Jacob  B.  Hoffman.  After  hearing  much 
of  the  testimony,  and  getting  well  along  in  the  cause,  Levi 
Stein,  one  of  the  jurors,  and  an  estimable  man,  was  taken 
very  sick,  and  the  court  adjourned  until  the  twenty-third  of  the 
same  month.  Mr.  Stein  never  recovered  sufficiently  to 
reappear  in  the  jury  box,  and  after  his  death  the  remainder 
of  the  panel  were  discharged.  The  cause  therefore  went 
over.  It  was  in  this  unfortunate  trial  that  McParlan  came 


508 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


upon  the  stand,  stood  revealed  to  the  world  as  the  former 
James  McKenna,  and  made  his  astonishing  revelations, 
which,  for  interest  and  novelty,  have  startled  the  civilized 
world,  James  Kerrigan,  also  made  his  debut  as  a witness  for 
the  Commonwealth,  and,  but  for  the  sad  incident  occurring, 
as  related,  the  trial  would  have  proven  a triumph  over  the 
Mollies.  Hon.  F.  B,  Go  wen.  President  of  the  Philadelphia 
and  Reading  Railroad  Company  and  of  the  Philadelphia 
and  Reading  Coal  and  Iron  Company,  in  this  case  first  came 
forward  as  counsel,  ungloved  himself  for  the  struggle,  and 
by  his  boldness  did  much  to  reassure  the  depressed  and 
suffering  people  of  the  coal  region.  It  was  a sad  provi- 
dence and  calamity  that  terminated  tlie  trial  so  unhappily. 
The  counsel  engaged  for  the  Commonwealth  were  George 
R.  Kaercher,  Esq.,  District  Attorney,  Hon.  F.  B,  Gowen, 
Hon.  F.  W.  Hughes,  Gen.  Charles  Albright,  and  Guy  E. 
Farquhar,  Esq.  ; for  the  defense  were  Hon.  Lin  Bartholo- 
mew, John  W.  Ryon,  Esq.,  and  Daniel  Kalbfus,  Esq.  It 
was  an  array  of  talent  which  attracted  deserved  attention 
from  the  people  and  the  press,  many  citizens  daily  crowding 
the  court  room,  and  all  the  leading  newspapers  having  repre- 
sentatives present.  Everything,  however,  had  to  be  re- 
peated, because  of  the  decease  of  Mr.  Stein. 

■ ♦ 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

A NOBLE  EFFORT. 

Kerrigan,  Do)de,  and  Kelly  were  already  convicted  of 
the  murder  of  John  P.  Jones,  and  on  the  fourth  of  P’ebruary, 
1876,  Alex.  Campbell,  the  originator  of  the  plan  and  the 
man  for  whom  the  assassination  had  been  committed,  was 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


509 

lodged  in  prison  at  Mauch  Chunk.  His  trial  commenced 
the  twentieth  of  June  ensuing.  By  the  twenty-first  the  follow- 
ing jury  had  been  obtained:  Adam  Meeker,  Elias  Berger, 
R.  J.  Koch,  Charles  Horn,  William  Williams,  Harrison  Hem- 
bach,  and  Charles  Zelner.  A verdict  of  “ murder  in  the  first 
degree”  was  returned  July  ist.  An  attempt  was  subse- 
quently made  to  secure  a new  trial,  an  argument  was  heard 
on  the  twenty-fourth  of  July,  and  a second  trial  granted, 

! which  occurred  on  the  twenty-first  of  January,  1877.  He  was 
a second  time  found  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree  and 
sentenced  by  the  court  to  be  executed.  He  was  also  found 
guilty  in  the  Morgan  Powell  murder. 

In  June,  1876,  at  Pottsville,  occurred  the  trial  of  Thomas 
Munley  and  Charles  McAllister,  arrested  Feb.  loth,  in  the 
same  year,  for  the  Sanger  and  Uren  murder.  This  capture 
was  made  on  the  affidavit  of  R.  J.  Idnden.  The  prisoner 
was  taken  at  his  house  in  Gilberton.  McAllister  demanding 
a separate  trial.  Geo.  R.  Kaercher,  Esq.,  the  District  Attor- 
; ney,  elected  to  try  Munley  first,  and  the  case  commenced 
June  28th,  before  Judge  D.  B.  Green,  a jury  having  been 
found  on  the  preceding  day,  composed  of  the  following 
named  persons  : John  T.  Clouse,  I.  W.  White,  John  Sprin- 
ger, Benj.  H.  Guldin,  Thomas  Fennell,  Sr.,  Emanuel  Gehris, 
Solomon  Fidler,  Daniel  Zerbe,  Frederick  Alvord,  Charles 
i Brenneman,  Jefferson  Dull,  and  Daniel  Donne.  A verdict 
of  “guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree”  was  returned  on 
the  twelfth  of  July.  It  was  in  this  case  that  Hon.  F.  B. 
Gowen,  assisting  in  the  prosecution,  made  his  memorable 
address  against  the  Mollie  Maguires,  which  I give  almost 
entire.  After  alluding  to  the  importance  of  the  cause,  the 
f gravity  of  the  case,  a man  being  on  trial  for  his  life,  and  dis- 
claiming any  reflections  as  against  the  talented  legal  gentle- 
men engaged  in  the  defense,  Messrs.  Lin.  Bartholomew, 
John  W.  Ryon,  M.  M.  L’Velle,  and  S.  A.  Garrett,  he  en- 
tered upon  a minute  history  of  the  crime,  not  differing  mate- 


510 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


rially  from  that  furnished  in  these  pages,  calling  attention  to 
the  utterances  of  Mr.  Sanger,  while  dying,  and  then  said  : 
‘‘What  is  the  first  defense?  An  alibi.  That  which 
comes  most  readily  at  the  beck  and  call  of  every  criminal 
who  knows  himself  to  be  guilty ; for,  when  every  other  de- 
fense fails,  the  ever-ready  alibi  is  always  on  hand  to  be 
proved  by  a crowd  of  relatives  and  retainers,  who  come  for- 
ward to  say  that  a man  charged  with  the  commission  of  a 
particular  offense,  at  a particular  time,  and  in  a particular 
place,  was,  on  that  very  day,  engaged  in  some  lawful  and 
legitimate  calling  many  miles  away.  When  established  to 
the  satisfaction  of  a jury,  an  alibi  is  the  very  best  defense 
that  can  be  offered,  but,  as  it  is  always  the  defense  that  is 
resorted  to  by  the  guilty,  and  as  it  is  the  defense  that  is  most 
easily  manufactured,  it  becomes  the  duty  of  a jury  most 
carefully  to  scrutinize  and  examine  its  truth ; and  in  this 
case  I am  glad  to  say  that  I think  you  Avill  have  no  trouble 
in  disposing  of  it.  By  Avhom  is  this  alibi  proven  ? In  the 
first  place  by  Edward  Munley,  the  father  of  the  prisoner, 
and  by  Michael  Munley,  the  prisoner’s  brother.” 

After  showdng  how  signally  the  alibi  had  failed,  he  said : 

“ I dismiss  these  two  witnesses  from  the  case.  There  is 
no  palliation  for  such  testimony,  for  there  can  be  no  pallia- 
tion for  perjury ; and  it  has  become  too  serious  an  offense 
in  this  county  to  be  passed  over,  hereafter,  in  silence.  But 
if  there  ever  was  a palliation  for  perjury,  if  there  should  be 
at  the  last  great  day,  before  the  final  Judge,  any  excuse  for 
the  enormity  of  this  crime,  it  will  be  urged  on  behalf  of  a 
father  who  has  striven  to  save  his  son  from  the  gallows,  and 
on  behalf  of  one  brother,  who  seeks  to  shield  another  from 
infamy  and  from  shame.” 

Addressing  himself  to  the  Mollie  Maguires,  he  continued  : 

“ I may  say,  however,  before  leaving  this  branch  of  the 
case,  that  now  that  the  light  of  day  is  thrown  upon  the  secret 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


5U 


workings  of  this  association,  human  life  is  as  safe  in  Schuyl- 
kill County  as  it  is  in  any  other  ])art  of  this  Commonwealth  ; 
that  as  this  association  is  broken  down  and  trampled  into  the 
dust,  its  leaders  either  in  jail  or  fugitives  from  the  just  ven- 
geance of  the  law,  tlie  administration  of  justice  in  this  court 
will  be  as  certain  as  human  life  is  safe  throughout  the  whole 
length  and  breadth  of  the  county.  The  time  has  gone  by 
when  the  murderer,  the  incendiary,  and  the  assassin  can  go 
home  reeking  from  the  commission  of  crimes,  confident  in 
the  fact  that  he  can  appear  before  a jury  and  have  an  alibi 
j proved  for  him  to  allow  him  to  escape  jninishment.  There 
will  be  no  more  false  alibis  in  this  county  ; the  time  for 
them  has  gone  forever.  No  more  false  alibis.  No  more 
confident  reliance  upon  the  perjury  of  relatives  and  friends 
to  prove  an  alibi  for  him  who  was  seen  in  the  commission  of 
the  act.  No  more  dust  thrown  in  the  eyes  of  j-uries  to  blind 
them  from  looking  directly  at  the  facts  of  a case  ; and  I do 
say  that  if  there  ever  was  anything  to  be  proud  of,  to  be  glad 
of,  after  the  fact  that  we  are  enfranchised  and  disenthralled 
\ from  this  despotism  and  this  tyranny  that  has  been  hanging 
over  us,  it  is  that  the  administration  of  justice  will  no  longer 
I be  polluted  and  disgraced  by  perjury  and  false  swearing,  for 
’ the  purpose  of  rescuing  a criminal  from  the  just  vengeance 
of  the  law. 

“ I now  come  to  the  testimony  of  McParlaji.  Many  of 
I you  know  that  some  years  ago  I was  the  District  Attorney  of 
this  county.  I am,  therefore,  not  very  much  out  of  my  old 
j paths,  and  not  very  much  away  from  my  old  moorings,  when 
i I am  standingr  on  behalf  of  the  Commonwealth,  in  the  Court 
' of  Pottsvhlle,  demanding  the  conviction  of  a guilty  man.  It 
was  when  1 was  District  Attorney  of  this  county,  a young 
man,  charged  with  the  prosecution  of  the  pleas  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, that  for  the  first  time  I made  up  my  mind  from 
what  I had  seen,  in  innumerable  instances,  that  there  then 
existed  in  this  county  a secret  organization,  banded  together 


512 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


for  the  commission  of  crime,  and  for  the  purpose  of  securing 
the  escape  or  acquittal  of  any  of  its  members  charged  with 
the  commission  of  an  offense. 

“ That  conviction  forced  itself  indelibly  upon  my  mind. 
A man,  who  for  two  years  acts  as  District  Attorney  in  this 
county,  prosecuting  criminals  who  are  brought  before  the 
court,  must  be  either  very  obtuse  or  wilfully  blind,  if  he 
could  close  his  eyes  to  the  existence  of  a fact  as  perceptible 
as  this  was  then  to  me.  I left  this  county  with  that  settled 
conviction,  and  circumstances  that  occurred  time  and  again, 
long  after  1 withdrew  from  the  prosecution  of  criminals,  still 
more  deeply  fastened  this  conviction  in  my  mind.  Murder, 
violence,  and  arson,  committed  without  detection,  and  ap- 
parently without  motive,  attested  the  correctness  of  that  be- 
lief, and  when  the  time  arrived  that  I became  so  much  inter- 
ested in  the  prosperity  of  this  county,  and  in  the  development 
of  its  mineral  wealth,  that  I saw  that  it  was  a struggle 
between  the  good  citizen  and  the  bad  citizen  as  to  which 
should  obtain  the  supremacy,  I made  up  my  mind  that  if 
human  ingenuity,  if  long  suffering  and  patient  care,  and  toil 
that  stopped  at  no  obstacle,  and  would  confront  every  danger, 
could  succeed  in  exposing  this  secret  organization  to  light 
of  day,  and  bringing  to  well-earned  justice  the  perpetrators 
of  these  awful  crimes,  I would  undertake  the  task. 

1 knew  that  it  could  only  be  done  by  secret  detectives, 
and  I had  had  enough  experience,  both  as  a lawyer,  and  as 
the  head  of  a very  large  corporation,  to  know  that  the  public 
municipal  detectives  employed  by  the  police  authorities  of 
the  cities,  who  operate  only  for  rewards,  are  the  last  persons 
to  whom  you  could  trust  a mission  and  an  enterprise  such  as 
this.  It  was  as  important  for  us  to  know  who  was  innocent 
as  it  was  to  know  who  was  guilty. 

“ The  detective  who  operates  for  rewards,  who  is  only 
paid  upon  his  conviction  of  the  offender,  has  a motive  to  in- 
cite him  to  action  which  I would  be  the  last  man  in  the 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


513 


world  to  arouse.  I knew,  for  I had  had  experience  before, 
of  the  National  Detective  Agency  of  Allan  Pinkerton,  of 
Chicago,  which  was  established  by  an  intelligent  and  broad- 
minded Scotchman,  established  upon  the  only  basis  on 
which  a successful  detective  agency  can  be  established,  and 
I applied  to  Mr.  Pinkerton.  His  plan  was  simply  this  : ‘ I 
will  secure  an  agent,  or  an  officer,’  said  he,  ‘ to  ferret  out  the 
existence  of  this  society.  Whoever  I get  is  to  be  paid  so 
much  a week,  no  matter  if  he  finds  out  nothing.  He  is 
bound  to  me,  never,  under  any  circumstances,  to  take  a reward 
for  his  services,  from  anybody,  and,  if  he  spends  five  years  and 
obtains  nothing  in  the  way  of  information,  he  must  have 
every  month  or  every  week  exactly  the  same  compensation  as 
if  every  week  he  had  traced  a new  murder  and  every  month 
had  discovered  a new  conspiracy.  He  is  never  to  gain  pe- 
cuniarily by  the  success  of  his  undertaking  ; but  as  a man 
who  goes  into  this  organization,  as  a detective,  takes  his  life 
in  his  own  hands,  I will  send  no  man  on  this  mission  of  yours, 
Mr.  Gowen,  unless  it  be  agreed,  beforehand,  and  I can  tell 
him  so,  that  he  never  is  to  be  known  in  connection  with  the 
enterprise.’  Upon  these  terms  this  man,  James  McParlan, 
was  selected.  A young  Irishman  and  a Catholic,  but  six  or 
seven  years  in  this  country,  eminently  qualified  by  his  pecu- 
liar Irish  accomplishments  to  ingratiate  himself  with  those  to 
whom  he  was  sent,  he  came  here  in  the  fall  of  1873, 
within  six  months  he  had  so  far  won  the  confidence  of  the 
class  of  people  who  constituted  this  order  tha't  he  was  admit- 
ted as  a member.  Remember,  now,  here  — and  I advert  to  it 
lest  I might  forget  it  — that  he  came  here  pledged  that  he 
should  not  be  used  as  a witness.  Therefore,  the  only  object 
of  his  coming  was  to  put  us  upon  the  track,  so  that  we  could 
discover  the  crime  when  it  was  being  perpetrated,  and  this 
is  the  best  answer  that  can  possibly  be  made  to  the  charge 
that  he  wilfully  withheld  his  knowledge  when  he  might  have 
saved  human  life.  His  only  object  here  was  to  get  knowl- 
22* 


514 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


edge.  He  never  was  to  be  used  as  a witness.  His  only  desire 
was  to  find  out  when  a murder  was  to  be  committed,  to  be 
with  the  perpetrators  if  he  could,  and  to  give  notice  to  Cap- 
tain Linden,  who  had  an  armed  police  force  ready,  so  that 
they  might  be  waiting  at  the  very  spot,  and  not  only  save 
the  life  of  the  intended  victim,  but  arrest  every  man  engaged 
in  the  perpetration  of  the  offense,  in  order  that  there  could 
be  abundant  evidence  of  their  guilt.  That  was  his  whole 
object.  Almost  every  night  he  made  his  report;  and  how 
well  he  has  performed  his  duty,  the  security  of  human  life 
and  property  in  this  county,  to-day,  as  compared  with  what 
it  was  six  months  ago,  is  the  best  commentary  I can  make 
upon  the  subject. 

But  Mr.  L’Velle  tells  you  that  from  the  advent  of  Mr. 
McParlan  into  this  county  have  all  these  crimes  been  com- 
mitted. Remember  the  words : ‘ From  the  advent  of  Mc- 
Parlan into  this  county  have  all  these  crimes  been  com- 
mitted.’ I fear  that  Mr.  L’Velle  has  not  been  long  among 
you,  or,  if  he  has,  his  memory  is  sadly  deficient,  when  he 
says  that  all  these  crimes  have  been  committed  since  the 
advent  of  Mr.  McParlan  in  Schuylkill  County. 

“ Mr.  L’Velle. — I antedated  you  in  coming  to  Schuylkill 
County.  / 

“ Mr.  Gowen. — Then  your  memory  is  very  defective. 
Does  the  gentleman  forget  Dunne,  who  was  murdered  with- 
in two  miles  of  this  town  ? Does  he  forget  Alexander  Rae, 
who  was  stricken  down  near  Mt.  Carmel  ? Does  he  remem- 
ber the  assassination  of  William  Littlehales  ? If  he  does  not 
I am  very  sure  that  his  colleague,  Mr.  Bartholomew,  will  not 
forget  it,  for  I remember  that  I stood  here,  just  where  I 
stand  now,  some  years  ago,  defending  a couple  of  men  for 
murder,  who,  with  other  good  citizens,  when  the  house  of  a 
boss  had  been  attacked  at  Tuscarora  by  a mob  intent  upon 
murder,  had  behaved,  not  like  some  of  those  at  Raven  Run, 
but  had  sprung  to  arms,  and  had  taken  their  old  muskets, 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


515 


their  rusty  rilles,  their  pistols  and  their  swords,  some  of  them 
with  no  time  to  load  their  muskets  save  with  the  marbles 
witli  which  their  children  had  been  i)laying,  and  had  sprung 
to  arms  to  defend  the  house  that  was  attacked,  and  had  shot 
down  one  of  the  assailants  in  his  tracks,  and  were  arrested 
and  brought  here  charged  with  the  crime  of  murder ; my 
friend,  Mr.  Bartholomew,  who  was  my  colleague,  joined  with 
me  in  contending  that  our  clients  had  done  that  which  they  . 
ought  to  have  done  to  protect  themselves,  and,  as  I was 
standing  here,  arguing  that  case,  there  came  over  from  Coal 
Castle  the  news  that  William  Littlehales  had  been  murdered. 

“ Does  the  gentlemen  forget  all  this  ? Does  he  forget 
George  K.  Smith  and  David  Muir  ? Does  he  forget  the  as- 
sassins who  made  the  attack  upon  Claude  White  ? Does  he 
forget  Morgan  Powell,  and  I^angdon,  who  were  killed,  and 
Ferguson,  who  was  beaten  almost  to  death  ? Does  he  for- 
get Patrick  Barry,  who,  living  with  his  wife  and  children  in 
the  house  by  the  tunnel,  when  a band  of  assassins  attacked 
him  at  night,  placed  his  wife  and  little  ones  in  the  middle  of 
the  house  and  piled  all  the  mattresses  and  blankets  and  pil- 
lows around  them,  and,  when  he  had  sheltered  them  as  best 
he  could,  fought  an  angry  horde  of  two  or  three  hundred 
men,  keeping  them  at  bay  until  daylight,  when  they  fled, 
leavins:  the  long  tracks  of  their  blood  behind  them  to  show 
how  w^ll  he  had  avenged  himself  upon  his  assailants  ? 

“ These  coal  fields  for  twenty  years,  I may  say,  have  been 
the  theatre  of  the  commission  of  crimes  such  as  our  very 
nature  revolts  at.  This  .very  organization  that  we  are  now, 
for  the  first  time,  exposing  to  the  light  of  day,  has  hung  like 
a pall  over  the  people  of  this  county.  Before  it  fear  and 
terror  fled  cowering  to  homes  which  afforded  no  sanctuary 
against  the  vengeance  of  their  pursuers.  Behind  it  stalked 
darkness  and  despair,  brooding  like  grim  shadows  over  the 
desolated  hearth  and  the  ruined  home,  and  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  this  fair  land  there  was  heard  the  voice 


5i6 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


of  wailing  and  of  lamentation,  of  ‘ Rachel  weeping  for  her 
children  and  refusing  to  be  comforted,  because  they  were 
not.’  Nor  is  it  alone  those  whose  names  I have  mentioned 
— not  alone  the  prominent,  the  upright,  and  the  good  citizen 
whose  remains  have  been  interred  with  pious  care  in  the 
tombs  of  his  fathers  ; but  it  is  the  hundreds  of  unknown! 
victims,  whose  bones  now  lie  mouldering  over  the  face  of 
. this  county.  In  hidden  places  and  by  silent  paths,  in  the 
dark  ravines  of  the  mountains,  and  in  secret  ledges  of  the 
rocks,  who  shall  say  how  many  bodies  of  the  victims  of  this 
order  now  await  the  final  trump  of  God?  And  from  those 
lonely  sepulchres,  there  will  go  up  to  the  God  who  gave  them 
the  spirits  of  these  murdered  victims,  to  take  their  places 
among  the  innumerable  throng  of  witnesses  at  the  last  day, 
and  to  confront  with  their  presence  the  members  of  this 
ghastly  tribunal,  when  their  solemn  accusation  is  read  from 
the  plain  command  of  the  Decalogue,  ‘Thou  shalt  not  kill.’ 

“ But  we  are  told  that  in  the  commission  of  these  crimes, 
although  Mr.  Bartholomew  admits  that  they  existed  long 
years  before  McParlan  came  into  the  county,  this  man  aban- 
doned his  duty  as  a detective,  and  became  an  accomplice 
in  the  crime.  And  u[)on  whose  testimony  does  this  charge 
rest  ? My  friend  invokes  from  you  a careful  attention  to 
the  facts  of  this  case,  and  properly  endeavors  to  exclude 
from  it  an  examination  of  any  other  circumstances  .or  any 
other  facts  than  those  which  have  been  proved  in  the  case. 

“ But  upon  whose  testimony  is  McParlan  an  accomplice  ? 
Upon  whose  testimony  is  the  charge  made  that  McParlan 
engaged  deliberately  in  the  commission  of  offenses  and 
secreted  the  offenders  ? Upon  Ned  Monaghan’s  and  Patrick 
Coyle’s,  alone.  Upon  Ned  Monaghan,  for  whom  the  doors 
of  your  jail  open  wide  to-day,  never  probably  to  reopen 
until  he  comes  out  in  company  with  Jack  Kehoe,  and  the 
other  murderers,  to  stand  his  trial  for  his  life.  Upon  Mona- 
ghan, the  Molly  Maguire,  the  man  w'ho  was  on  the  Ringtown 


A NOBLE  EFFORT, 


517 


Mountain  helping  to  select  the  committee  to  kill  William 
Thomas.  Pklward  Monaghan,  who,  to-day,  is  as  guilty  of 
murder  in  the  first  degree  as  any  other  man  now  confined 
within  the  walls  of  your  prison. 

‘‘And  who  is  Patrick  Coyle  ? A man  who  saw  McParlaii 
drawing  a pistol  and  never  heard  him  say  or  saw  him  do  any- 
thing else,  and  because  he  did  not  see  him  do  and  did  not 
hear  liim  say  anything,  he  swears  he  believes  that  McParlan 
•was  inciting  to  murder. 

“ What  need  I say  further  ? An  accomplice  ! McParlan 
an  accomplice  ! Mr.  Bartholomew  tells  you  that  he  permit- 
ted Thomas  Hurley  to  escape,  and  that  he  permitted  Michael 
Doyle  to  escape.  Neither  Thomas  Hurley  nor  Michael 
Doyle  have  escaped  ; but  the  excoriating  denunciation  which 
IMr.  Bartholomew  hurled  against  Thomas  Hurley  will  effect- 
ually prevent  him  from  defending  Hurley,  when  he  comes 
before  this  court  for  trial  for  murder.  It  will  not  be  long 
before  he  comes  here.  It  is  simply  a question  between  the 
Mollie  Maguires  on  the  one  side  and  Pinkerton’s  Detective 
Agency  on  the  other,  and  I know  too  well  that  Pinkerton’s 
Detective  Agency  will  win.  There  is  not  a place  on  the 
habitable  globe  where  these  men  can  find  refuge  and  in 
which  they  will  not  be  tracked  down.  Let  them  go  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  or  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  ; let  them 
traverse  the  bleak  deserts  of  Siberia,  penetrate  into  the 
jungles  of  India,  or  wander  over  the  wild  steppes  of  Central 
Asia,  and  they  will  be  dogged  and  tracked  and  brought  to 
justice,  just  as  surely  as  Thomas  Munleyis  brought  to  justice 
to-day.  The  cat  that  holds  the  mouse  in  her  grasp  some- 
times lets  it  go  for  a little  while  to  play ; but  she  knows  well 
that  at  her  will  she  can  again  have  it  secure  within  her  claws  ; 
and  Pinkerton’s  Agency  may  sometimes  permit  a man  to  be- 
lieve that  he  is  free  who  does  not  know  that  he  may  be  travel- 
ing five  thousand  miles  in  the  company  of  those  whose  vigi- 
lance never  slumbers  and  whose  eyes  are  never  closed  in  sleep. 


5i8 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


“ They  may  not  know  that  the  time  will  come,  but  I say 
that  so  surely  as  I am  standing  before  you  to-day,  the  time 
will  come,  be  it  short  or  be  it  long,  be  it  months  or  be  it 
years,  when  every  single  murderer  then  living  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  who  has  committed  a crime  in  this  county,  since 
April,  1874,  will  answer  for  that  crime  before  the  presence  of 
this  court  ‘ The  race  is  not  always  to  the  swift,  nor  the 
battle  to  the  strong.’  Those  who  see  what  we  are  doing 
now  have  seen  but  little  ; for  it  is  only  the  opening  of  the 
book  of  this  vast  conspiracy,  and  behind  the  meaner  men 
who  shot  the  pistol  there  stand  others  far  more  guilty  than 
they  who,  with  them,  at  sometime  will  be  brought  to  justice — 

“ ‘ For  Time  at  last  sets  all  things  even, 

And  if  we  do  but  wait  the  hour, 

There  never  yet  was  human  power 
That  could  evade,  if  unforgiven. 

The  patient  search  and  vigil  long 
Of  him  who  treasures  up  a wrong.’ 

“ And  now  some  words  about  this  secret  organization  of 
Alollie  Maguires.  My  friend,  Mr.  Bartholomew,  is  not  cor- 
rect in  his  statement  of  their  history.  If,  after  this  case. is 
over,  and  when  you  are  permitted  to  read,  you  will  get  a 
little  book  called  Trench’s  Realities  of  Irish  Life^  written  by 
a relative  of  that  celebrated  Dean  Trench,  whose  name  is 
well  known  wherever  English  literature  is  read,  you  will  find 
the  history  of  this  organization.  It  was  known  as  the  Rib- 
bonmen  of  Ireland.  It  sprang  up  at  a time  when  there  was 
an  organized  resistance  in  Ireland  to  the  payments  of  rents. 
The  malcontents  became  known  as  Ribbonmen,  and  they 
generally  made  their  attacks  upon  the  agents  of  the  non-resi- 
dent landowners,  or  upon  the  constables  or  bailififs  who 
attempted  to  collect  the  rents.  Their  object  was  to  intimi- 
date and  hold  in  terror  all  those  to  whom  they  owed  money 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


519 


or  who  were  employed  in  its  collection.  As  a branch  of 
this  society,  and  growing  out  of  it,  si)rang  the  men  known 
as  Mollie  Maguires,  and  the  name  of  their  society  simply  arose 
from  this  circumstance,  that,  in  the  perpetration  of  their 
offenses,  they  dressed  as  women,  and  generally  ducked  or 
beat  their  victims,  or  inflicted  some  such  punishment  as  in- 
furiated women  would  be  likely  to  administer.  Hence 
originated  the  name  of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  which  has  been 
handed  down  to  us  at  the  present  day  ; and  the  organization 
of  the  Mollie  Maguires,  therefore,  is  identical  with  that  of 
the  Ribbonmen  in  Ireland,  who  have  terrorized  over  the 
Irish  people  to  so  great  an  extent. 

“ How  this  association  came  into  this  county  we  do  not 
know.  We  had  suspected  for  many  years,  and  we  know  now, 
that  it  is  criminal  in  its  character.  That  is  proved  beyond 
peradventure.  It  will  not  do  to-day  to  say  that  it  was  only 
in  particular  localities  in  this  county  that  it  was  a criminal 
organization,  because  the  highest  officer  in  the  society  in 
this  county,  the  County  Delegate,  Jack  Kehoe,  the  man  who 
attended  the  State  Convention,  and  was  the  representative 
of  the  whole  order  in  this  county,  is  at  present,  as  you  hear 
from  the  testimony,  in  prison  awaiting  his  trial  for  murder. 
Whether  this  society,  known  as  the  Ancient  Order  of  Hiber- 
nians, is  beyond  the  limits  of  this  county  a good  society  or 
not  1 cannot  tell ; but  I have  believed  at  some  times  that  it 
was,  and  I am  willing  to  be  satisfied  of  that  fact  now,  if  there 
is  any  evidence  of  it.  Ilut  there  has  been  an  attack  made 
upon  this  organization,  and  up  to  this  time  we  have  not  had 
furnished  to  us  any  evidence  that  in  any  place  its  objects 
were  laudable  or  commendable.  Criminal  in  its  character, 
criminal  in  its  inirpose,  it  had  frequently  a political  object. 
You  will  find  the  leaders  of  this  society  the  prominent  men 
in  the  townships.  Through  the  instrumentality  of  their  order, 
and  by  its  power,  they  were  able  to  secure  offices  for  them- 
selves. You  see  here  and  now  know  that  one  of  the 


520 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


Commissioners  of  this  county  is  a member  of  this  order. 
You  know  that  a previous  Commissioner  of  this  county  was  a 
member  of  this  order,  convicted  of  a high  offense,  and  par- 
doned by  the  Governor.  You  know  that  another  County 
Commissioner,  before  that,  was  a member  of  this  order,  con- 
victed of  an  offense,  and  pardoned  by  the  Governor.  High 
constables,  chiefs  of  police,  candidates  for  associate  judges, 
men  who  were  trusted  by  their  fellow-men,  were  all  the  time 
guilty  of  murder. 

“But  in  addition  to  the  criminal  and  the  political  mo- 
tives, these  people  claim  national  characteristics.  They 
claim  that  they  were,  par  excellence.,  the  representatives  of 
the  Irish  of  this  coimtry.  They  claim  more  than  that,  that 
they  represent  the  Irish  Catholics  of  this  country.  I shall 
say  but  little  about  the  Irish,  except  that  I am  myself  the 
son  of  an  Irishman,  proud  of  my  ancestry,  and  proud  of  my 
race,  and  never  ashamed  of  it,  except  when  I see  that  Ire- 
land has  given  birth  to  wretches  such  as  these  ! These  men 
call  themselves  Irishmen  ! These  men  parade  on  St.  Pat- 
rick’s Day  and  claim  to  be  good  Catholics  ! Where  are  the 
honest  Irishmen  of  this  county  ? Why  do  not  they  rise  up 
and  strike  down  these  wretches  that  usurp  the  name  of  Irish- 
men ? If  a German  commits  an  offense,  and  engages  in 
murder,  do  all  the  other  Germans  take  his  part  and  establish 
a false  alibi  to  defeat  the  ends  of  justice?  If  an  American 
becomes  a criminal,  do  the  Americans  protect  him  ? Do  they 
not  say,  ‘Away  with  you!  You  have  disgraced  the  country 
that  bore  you?’  If  an  Englishman  becomes  an  offender, 
do  the  English  nation  take  him  to  their  arms  and  make  him- 
a hero  ? VVhy,  then,  do  not  the  honest  Irishmen  of  this 
county  come  together  in  public  meeting,  and  separate  them- 
selves widely  from  and  denounce  this  organization  ? Upon 
what  principle  do  these  men,  outcasts  from  society,  the  dregs 
of  the  earth,  murderers  and  assassins,  claim  to  be  Irishmen 
and  arrogate  to  themselves  the  national  characteristics  of 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


521 


the  Irish  people?  It  is  a disgrace  to  Ireland  that  the  hon- 
est Irish  of  this  county,  probably  five  or  ten  thousand  in 
number,  should  permit  a few  hundred  wretches  like  these  to 
say  that  they  are  the  true  representatives  of  the  Irishmen  of 
Schuylkill  County. 

“ Does  an  Irishman  wonder  why  it  is  sometimes  difficult 
to  get  a job  in  this  county?  Does  he  wonder  why  the  boss 
at  a colliery  hesitates  to  employ  him,  when  these  people 
have  been  allowed  to  arrogate  to  themselves  the  Irish  char- 
acter and  have  been  permitted  to  represent  themselves  to 
the  people  of  this  county  as  the  proper  representatives  of 
Ireland  ? The  time  has  come  when  there  must  be  a line  of 
demarcation  drawn.  The  time  has  come  when  every  honest 
Irishman  in  this  county  must  separate  himself  from  any  sus- 
picion of  sympathy  with  this  association.  He  must  de- 
nounce its  members  as  outcasts  from  the  land  that  gave 
them  birth.  He  must  denounce  them  as  covered  with  in- 
famy and  blackened  with  crime.  He  must  say  that  they  are 
not  true  Irishmen  and  that  they  are  not  representatives  of 
Ireland. 

“ But  far  beyond  this  attempt  to  invoke  your  sympathy 
on  account  of  their  nationality  is  the  attempt  to  invoke  that 
sympathy  on  the  ground  that  they  belong  to  a persecuted 
religion.  Was  there  ever  such  sublime,  such  tremendous 
impudence  in  the  world,  as  that  a member  of  this  secret 
society,  a society  which  has  been  denounced  by  its  own 
Church,  and  each  member  of  which  has  been  excommunica- 
ted by  the  Archbishop  of  Philadelphia,  and  by  the  Pope  him- 
self, outcasts  from  society,  and  from  the  communion  of  their 
own  religion,  the  door  of  the  Church  shut  in  their  faces  and 
the  gates  of  heaven  closed  against  them  by  the  excommu- 
nication of  their  priests  — these  men,  infidels  and  atheists, 
caring  for  no  church,  and  worshiping  no  God,  set  themselves 
up  in  this  community  as  the  representatives  of  the  Catholic 
faith. 


522 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


“ ‘Just  Allah  ! what  must  be  thy  look  ? 

When  such  a wretch  before  thee  stands, 

Unblushing,  with  thy  sacred  book, 

Turning  its  leaves  with  blood-stained  hands, 

And  wresting  from  its  page  sublime 
His  creed  of  lust  and  hate  and  crime.’ 

“ A few  words  more  upon  this  subject  of  Irish  Catholics. 
I was  born  and  am  a Protestant,  but  I was  partially  educated 
among  the  Catholics,  and  I have  always  had  a kindly  feeling 
for  them,  and  when  these  assassins,  through  their  counsel, 
speak  of  being  Catholics,  I desire  to  say  to  you  here,  in  the 
first  place,  that  they  have  been  denounced  by  their  Church 
and  excommunicated  by  their  prelates,  and  that  I have  the 
direct  personal  authority  of  Archbishop  Wood  himself  to 
say  that  he  denounces  them  all,  and  .that  he  was  fully  cogni- 
zant of  and  approved  of  the  means  I took  to  bring  them  to 
justice.  And,  for  myself,  I can  say  that  for  many  months 
before  any  other  man  in  this  world,  except  those  connected 
with  the  Detective  Agency,  knew  what  was  being  done. 
Archbishop  Wood,  of  Philadelphia,  was  the  only  confident  I 
had  and  fully  knew  of  the  mission  of  the  detective  in  this 
whole  matter.  So  much,  then,  for  the  assumption  of  Mr. 
L’Velle  that  these  men  claim  sympathy  on  account  of  their 
being  Catholics.  I can  hardly  reply  calmly  to  such  an  argu- 
ment. I believe  that  there  must  be  different  sects  in  this 
country,  as  there  are  in  all  countries,  and  I am  one  of  those 
who  believe  that  a good  Catholic  is  better  than  a bad  Prot- 
estant. 

“Mr.  L’Velle. — I repel  that  remark. 

Mr.  Gowen. — Mr.  L’Velle  repels  the  remark  ! I can- 
not help  it,  and  I reiterate  the  fact  that  although  I am  a 
Protestant,  I have  been  taught  to  believe  that  a good 
Catholic  is  better  than  a bad  Protestant. 

“ I have  been  taught  to  believe  that  the  eyes  of  Justice  are 
closed  not  only  against  individuals  and  corporations,  but 


A NOBLE,  EFFORT. 


523 


against  nationalities  and  sects.  I have  been  taught  to  be- 
lieve that  he  is  the  good  citizen  who  is  truthful  and  honest, 
who  is  kind-hearted  and  affectionate,  who  lives  in  charity 
with  all  men,  who  gives  freely  of  his  means  to  the  poor,  and, 
whether  he  kneels  before  an  altar  or  worships  God  in  his  own 
chamber,  he  is  entitled  to  the  favorable  consideration  of  his 
fellow-men.  And  I do  know,  oh  ! so  well,  that  when  onr 
lives  draw  toward  their  close,  and  the  opening  portals  of  the 
tomb  reveal  to  our  eyes  some  glimpses  of  the  boundless 
waters  of  that  vast  eternity  upon  which  we  will  all  embark, 
that  then,  at  that  dread  moment,  it  will  be  to  the  recollection  of 
the  possessions  of  these  simple  virtues,  this  pure  morality, 
this  unostentatious  charity  that  I have  named,  that  we  will 
all  cling,  in  the  sublime  confidence  that  it  will  avail  .us  most, 
when  the  time  shall  come  that  each  one  of  us.  Catholic 
and  Protestant,  Lutheran  and  Calvinist,  Gentile  and  Jew, 
shall  be  stripped  of  the  thin  garb  of  the  sectarian,  and 
stand  in  equal  favor  before  the  great  white  throne  of 
God. 

“And  now  one  word  more  upon  this  subject,  and  1 dismiss 
it.  Whenever  you  hear  a complaint  made  against  a man 
because  he  is  an  Irishman,  or  because  he  is  a Catholic  ; when- 
ever you  hear  any  one,  no  matter  who  he  may  be,  say  that 
the  outrages  of  this  county  are  due  to  the  Irishmen,  or  due 
to  the  Catholics  do  not,  I beg  of  you,  forget,  in  your  secret 
hearts, 'that  the  highest  prelates  of  that  Church  have  cursed 
and  excommunicated  this  order.  Do  not  forget  that  what- 
ever little  credit  may  be  due  to  him  who  has  conceived  the 
plan  of  exposing  this  association  is  due  to  one  who  is  the  son 
of  an  Irishman  ; and  do  not  forget  that  a greater  honor  and 
a greater  meed  of  praise  than  is  due  to  any  other  is  due  to 
Detective  Me  Parian,  who  is  an  Irishman  by  birth,  and  a 
Catholic  by  religion ; and  if  those  who  profess  to  be  Irish 
Catholics  in  this  county  have  brought  their  nationality  and 
their  religion  into  disrepute,  I beg  of  you  to  remember  that 


524 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


both  have  been  gloriously  and  successfully  vindicated  by  an 
Irishman  and  a Catholic,  in  the  person  of  James  McParlan. 

• ••••••••• 

“ And  now  let  us  look  to  society  in  this  county,  as  it  was 
three  months  ago,  when  men  retired  to  their  homes  at  eight  or 
nine  o’clock  in  the  evening  and  no  one  ventured  beyond  the 
precints  of  his  own  door;  when  every  man  engaged  in  any 
enterprise  of  magnitude  or  connected  with  industrial  pursuits 
left  his  home  in  the  morning  with  his  hand  upon  his  pistol, 
unknowing  whether  he  would  again  leturn  alive  ; when  the 
very  foundations  of  society  were  being  overturned;  when 
the  administration  of  justice,  which  should  always  be  re- 
garded with  reverence,  had  almost  sunk  into  contempt ; when 
men  doubted  whether  it  was  in  the  power  of  organized 
society  to  protect  their  lives  and  to  secure  their  property  ; 
and  then  reflect  upon  the  change  which  a few  weeks  has 
brought  forth.  To-day  I give  you  notice  that  there  is  no 
part  of  this  county  that  is  not  as  safe  as  the  aisle  in  which 
I stand  here  now. 

“ Is  there  a man  in  this  audience,  looking  at  me  now,  and 
hearing  me  denounce  this  association,  who  longs  to  point 
his  pistol  at  me  ? I tell  him  that  he  has  as  good  a chance 
here  as  he  will  ever  have  again.  I tell  him  that  it  is  just  as 
safe  to-day  to  murder  in  the  temple  of  Justice  as  it  is  in  the 
secret  ravines  of  the  mountains,  or  within  the  silent  shadows 
of  the  woods.  I tell  him  that  human  life  is  safe.  I tell  him 
that  the  members  of  his  society,  whom  we  desire  to  convict, 
all,  save  one  or  two,  are  either  safely  lodged  within  the  walls 
of  your  prison  or  are  fugitives  from  justice,  but  almost  within 
the  grasp  of  the  detectives,  wflio  are  upon  their  heels.  I tell 
him  that  if  there  is  another  murder  in  this  county,  committed 
by  this  organization,  every  one  of  the  five  hundred  members 
of  the  order  in  this  county,  or  out  of  it,  who  connives  at  it, 
will  be  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  can  be 
hanged  by  the  neck  until  he  is  dead,  not  by  vigilance 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


525 


committees,  but  according  to  the  solemn  forms  of  justice, 
after  being  defended  by  able  and  experienced  counsel ; and 
I tell  him  that,  if  there  is  another  murder  in  this  county  by 
this  society,  there  will  be  an  inquisition  for  blood  with  which 
nothing  that  has  been  known  in  the  annals  of  criminal  jurispru- 
dence can  compare.  And  to  whom  are  we  indebted  for  this 
security,  of  which^  I now  boast  ? To  whom  do  we  owe  all 
this?  Under  the  Divine  Providence  of  God,  to  whom  be 
all  the  honor  and  all  the  glory,  we  owe  this  safety  to  James 
McParlan,  and  if  there  ever  was  a man  to  whom  the  people 
of  this  county  should  erect  a monument,  it  is  James  McPar 
Ian,  the  detective.  . . . . ^ . 

“McParlan  is  a detective,  engaged  in  the  performance  of 
a professional  duty,  who  enters  upon  his  quest  with  the 
avowed  purpose  of  trying  to  make  all  those  with  whom  he 
was  brought  in  contact  believe  that  he  is  one  of  them.  He 
is  not  an  accomplice.  He  went  there  for  the  purpose  of 
, aiding  the  officers  of  the  law  in  discovering  and  punishing 
guilt,  and  even  were  he  an  accomplice,  even  if  every  par- 
ticle of  testimony  we  have  had  during  the  last  two  weeks 
from  the  lips  of  James  McParlan  had  fallen  on  that  stand 
from  the  lips  of  Friday  O’Donnell,  or  from  the  lips  of  Michael 
Doyle,  it  would  have  been  not  only  corroborated,  but 
strengthened  and  attested  by  the  evidence  of  identification 
alone. 

“ Put  suppose  there  was  no  evidence  of  identification,  I 
desire  now  to  show  you  what  corroborative  testimony  be- 
yond that  of  identification  we  have  of  the  facts  proved  by 
McParlan  himself.  I have  taken  the  trouble,  during  the 
time  Mr.  I/Velle  was  s}>eaking  yesterday,  to  go  over,  with 
one  of  my  colleagues,  nearly  the  whole  of  the  testimony  in  this 
case,  so  that  I might  be  able  to  jioint  out  to  you  the  various 
places  in  which  and  the  manner  by  which  McParlan  is  cor- 
roborated by  other  witnesses.  I will  now  call  your  attention 
to  this  testimony,  in  detail,  in  the  order  in  which  it  was  given, 


526 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


and,  having  done  so  and  fixed  it  upon  your  mind,  I will 
endeavor  to  make  some  few  arguments  based  upon  this  cor- 
roborative testimony,  if  any  such  were  needed  to  enable  a 
jury  of  intelligent  men  to  determine  whether  they  will  give 
credence  to  the  testimony  of  AlcParlan. 

“ AfcParlan  says  that  Munley  told  him  that  McAllister  and 
O’Donnell,  called  for  him,  Munley,  on  the  evening  of  the 
thirty-first  of  August.  Remember,  McParlan  says  that  Munley 
told  him  at  Michael  Lawler’s  that  McAllister  and  O’Donnell 
called  for  him  the  previous  evening.  How  could  McParlan 
have  known  this  if  Munley  did  not  tell  it  to  him  ? Weigh 
that  in  your  mind|  for  one  instant.  How  could  McParlan 
have  found  this  fact  out,  if  Munley  had  not  told  him  ? Oh  ! 
but  our  friends  may  say  that  McParlan  swears  that  Munley 
said  so,  but  the  statement  is  not  true,  and  here  comes  in  the 
corroborative  testimony.  Frederick  Hunniken,  a witness  pro- 
duced by  the  Commonwealth,  says  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
thirty-first  of  August  a stranger  came  to  Wiggan’s  Patch  and 
talked  with  the  O’Donnells,  and  that  James  O’Donnell  and 
the  stranger  vvent  toward  Gilberton  together.  Then  James 
Patton  says  that  on  the  evening  of  the  thirty-first  of  August, 
Darcy  and  Munley  joined  a party  near  Gilberton,  and  Luke 
Richardson  says  that  on  the  evening  of  the  thirty-first,  Darcy 
and  Alunley  joined  a party  from  Wiggan’s  Patch  ; and  Sarah 
Ann  Gessford  and  George  Gessford  both  testified  that  they 
saw  Munley  with  Darcy  and  some  other  men  between  eight 
and  nine  o’clock  on  the  evening  of  the  thirty-first,  at  the  Cross 
Roads,  by  the  old  Flour  Barrel,  near  Gilberton.  There  are 
now  one,  two,  three,  four,  five  witnesses,  in  different  parts  of 
the  county,  who  have  testified  to  a state  of  facts  of  which 
AlcParlan  could  have  had  no  knowledge  whatever,  unless 
informed  by  Alunley.  Where  can  you  find  better  corrobora- 
tive evidence  than  this?  How  did  McParlan  know,  if  he 
made  up  this  story  to  tell,  that  the  O’Donnells  came  for 
Munley  in  the  evening,  and  that  they  went  off  together  ? 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


527 


Did  McParlan  know  Luke  Richardson  or  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Gess- 
ford  ? Had  he  ever  coniiniinicated  with  either  of  them? 
And  yet  James  McParlan  comes  forward  and  gives  us  a 
statement  which  was  told  to  him  by  Munley,  and  we  produce 
five  witnesses  to  prove  that  when  Munley  made  that  state- 
ment he  told  the  truth. 

“Again,  McParlan  says  that  Munley  had  on  dark  panta- 
loons of  a grayish  color.  How  could  McParlan  describe 
Munley’ s pantaloons,  if  he  had  not  seen  him  on  that  morn- 
ing ? If  he  attempted  to  make  up  a story,  is  it  likely  that 
he  would  have  discovered  exactly  the  proper  kind  of  panta- 
loons ? James  AVilliams  and  Roberts  say  that  on  that  day 
Munley  was  dressed  in  gray  pantaloons;  Robert  Heaton 
describes  them  as  darkish ; Melinda  Bickelman  says  that 
they  were  pepper  and  salt,  and  Munley’s  family,  themselves, 
have  to  admit  that  they  were  of  a grayish  color — one  of  them 
said  of  a brownish  color,  and  still  another  said  that  they  were 
gray,  but  had  a kind  of  a dark  stripe  in  them.  Here  is 
corroborative  testimony  again. 

“ Further  on  in  his  testimony  McParlan  says  that  Munley 
told  him  that  after  O’Donnell  began  the  attack,  he  ran  up 
and  shot  Sanger  near  the  fence  at  the  house,  and  that  Charles 
O’Donnell,  Doyle,  and  McAllister  fired  shots  to  intimidate 
the  crowd.  That  is  exactly  as  Patrick  Burns  describes  it, 
and  as  Melinda  Bickelman  describes  it.  The  two  men  that 
followed  Sanger  down  the  road  and  killed  him  were  Friday 
O’Donnell  and  this  j)risoner,  Thomas  Munley.  McAllister 
ran  around  to  intercept  Sanger,  and  the  other  two  men  fired 
shots  to  intimidate  the  crowd.  How,  under  heaven,  did 
McParlan  know  this,  unless  Munley  told  him.  Where  can 
there  be  stronger  corroborative  testimony  than  this  ? 

“ Again,  McParlan  swears  that  after  some  conversation  at 
Lawler’s,  when  these  five  men  came  in  on  the  morning  of  the 
first  of  September,  the  two  O’Donnells  and  McAllister  left 
for  home.  How  did  McParlan  know  that,  unless  he  saw  it  ? 


528 


A NOBLE  EFFORT, 


Our  friends  may  say,  where  is  the  evidence  of  that?  We 
answer  by  saying  that  Edward  Fox,  a witness  produced  by 
the  Commonwealth,  says  that  James  O’Donnell,  with  two 
men,  came  to  his  engine-house,  on  a path  between  Wiggan’s 
Patch  and  Shenandoah,  dusty  and  thirsty  as  if  from  traveling, 
at  eleven  o’clock  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  September. 
It  seems  to  me  as  if  there  was  some  almost  supernatural  or 
divine  agency  pointing  out  to  the  officers  of  justice  and  the 
agents  of  the  Commonwealth  the  evidence  that  would  corrob- 
orate the  testimony  of  this  man  McParlan.  How  could 
McParlan  make  up  a story  of  this  kind,  unless  he  had  seen 
the  men  ? He  swears  these  three  men  left  together,  and 
these  three  men  are  found  together,  and  separated  from  the 
other  two. 

“ Again,  McParlan  goes  further,  for  he  tells  you  what 
became  of  the  other  two.  He  says  that  after  Doyle  had  gone 
to  his  boarding-house  and  changed  his  clothes,  Doyle,  Hur- 
ley, Munley,  and  himself  went  to  Tobin’s  ball-alley,  in  Shen- 
andoah ; and  Philip  Weissner  and  William  J.  Fulton,  two 
witnesses  produced  by  the  Commonwealth,  testified  that  they 
met  Munley  in  Shenandoah,  with  some  other  men,  at  ten 
o’clock  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  September,  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Coal  Street  and  Chestnut  Street. 

“McParlan  also  says  that  Munley  left  Shenandoah  for 
home  about  one  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  on  the  first  of  Sep- 
tember, and  Mrs.  Smith,  Mrs.  Richardson,  Mrs.  Lambert, 
and  Mrs.  Hayes,  all  saw  Munley  coming  home  to  his  house  at 
Gilberton  between  two  and  three  o’clock,  just  about  the 
time  at  which  he  would  have  arrived  if  he  left  Shenandoah  at 
one  o’clock. 

“McParlan  also  swears  that  Munley  returned  to  Shenan- 
doah in  the  evening,  and  attended  a meeting  of  the  Mollie 
Maguires,  when  men  were  selected  to  murder  John  P.  Jones. 
Philip  Weissner  swears  that  he  met  Munley  on  the  evening 
of  the  first  of  September,  about  five  o’clock,  on  his  way  to 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


529 


Shenandoah,  and  Mrs.  Smith  saw  him  leave  his  home,  after 
changing  his  clothes,  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of  September, 
in  company  with  Darcy,  who  was  one  of  the  Mollie  Maguires, 
and  vvho  was  one  of  the  men  at  the  meeting  in  the  bush  on 
the  evening  of  the  first  of  September.  Where  can  you  have 
stronger  corroborative  testimony  than  this?  Ask  yourselves 
the  question  : how  could  James  McParlan  have  known  this? 
It  is  true,  and  it  is  proved  by  fifteen  or  twenty  witnesses  who 
have  placed  these  men  just  at  the  spot  and  just  at  the  time. 
How  did  McParlan  know  this,  unless  Munley  told  him  ? Ask 
yourselves  that  question,  and  then  ask  yourselves  whether,  if 
this  man  McParlan  was  Friday  O’Donnell  himself,  and  had 
testified  to  this  state  of  facts,  would  you  as  jurors  require 
any  other  corroborative  evidence  than  that  which  has  been 
laid  before  you  ? 

“ The  only  other  portion  of  the  defense  to  which  it  is 
necessary  for  me  now  to  revert  is  the  testimony  of  the  men 
around  Raven  Run,  who  saw  some  of  this  occurrence,  but 
could  not  recognize  Thomas  Munley.  In  the  first  place,  we 
believe,  though  we  have  no  right  to  make  charges,  but  we 
do  believe  that  there  were  a number  of  men  on  this  stand, 
who,  from  the  manner  in  which  they  gave  their  testimony, 
revealed  the  fact  that  they  knew  a great  deal  more  than  they 
intended  to  tell;  and  when  an  Irishman  from  the  same 
county  as  this  prisoner  so  testifies  on  cross-examination  that 
you  must  believe,  notwithstanding  his  denial  of  the  fact,  that 
he  was  a member  of  the  same  organization,  and  always  pre- 
faces his  testimony  as  to  the  prisoner’s  being  one  of  the 
murderers  by  saying,  ‘Not  to  the  best  of  my  opinion,’  you 
will  see  the  easy  way  by  which  he  bargained  with  his  con- 
science for  getting  over  the  obligation  of  the  oath  which  he 
had  taken  to  tell  the  truth. 

“ What  does  all  this  testimony  amount  to  ? Here  were 
four  days  taken  up  with  the  examination  of  forty  or  fifty 
witnesses,  and  at  the  utmost  all  that  each  or  any  of  them 

23 


530 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


could  say  was  that  Friday  O’Donnell  was  not  Thomas  Mim- 
ley.  Why,  w'e  knew  that  before.  Friday  O’Donnell  was 
the  leader  of  this  gang.  Friday  O’Donnell  was  the  man 
who  had  the  principal  hand  in  it ; he  was  the  man  who  took 
the  prominent  part  in  the  murder  ; he  was  the  man  whom 
nearly  all  the  witnesses  saw  and  described  by  his  clothing 
and  by  his  stature  ; and  every  one  of  them  swore,  with  great 
vehemence,  that  Friday  O’Donnell  was  not  Thomas  Mun- 
ley.  God  knows,  gentlemen,  we  knew  this  before ; we 
knew  that  Friday  O’Donnell  was  not  Thomas  Munley,  but 
when  they  were  questioned,  they  either  had  to  admit  that 
they  could  not  tell  whether  the  prisoner  was  one  of  the 
other  four  men,  or  that  they  had  not  seen  the  other  four 
men  sufficiently  to  enable  them  to  identify  them  thereafter. 

“ I have  said  to  you  before  that  it  seems  to  me  as  if  there 
had  been  a divine  interposition  for  the  investigation  and 
punishment  of  crime  in  this  county.  Remember  that  Mc- 
Parlan  came  here  pledged  that  he  should  not  be  used  as  a 
witness.  We  placed  no  reliance  upon  him  as  a witness. 
We  could  not  arrest  a man  because  he  told  us  any- 
thing about  him,  because  he  was  protected  by  the  pledge 
we  had  given  him  that  he  was  not  to  be  exposed,  and  was 
never  to  be  known  in  the  investigation  ; and  I tell  you  that, 
no  matter  what  the  consequence  would  have  been,  when  I 
became  an  instrument  to  lead  him  into  the  danger  to  which 
he  was  subjected  when  he  took  his  life  into  his  own  hand  and 
entered  into  the  secret  councils  of  this  order,  I would  have 
been  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  have  asked  him  to  relieve 
me  from  the  pledge  which  had  been  made  to  him.  You 
have  heard  that  his  mission  became  known  to  this  order, 
how  or  by  what  manner  I am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  you  to- 
day, for  it  is  not  in  evidence.  We  have  the  fact,  though, 
that  his  mission  became  known  to  this  society,  and  we  have 
the  fact  that  those  from  whose  vengeance  he  was  to  be  pro- 
tected, by  ignorauce  of  his  true  character,  acquired  informa- 


A NOBLE  EFFORT, 


531 


tion  that  enabled  them  to  know  that  he  was  playing  a false 
part  in  their  organization,  and  that  he  was  in  reality  a detec- 
tive ; and  he  was  compelled  to  leave  the  county.  And  then 
I saw  before  me  my  path  as  clear  as  day.'  Then  1 saw  that 
some  miraculous  interposition  of  providence  had  been  vouch- 
safed to  permit  us  to  use  the  testimony  and  the  knowledge 
of  this  man  McParlan.  Then  I breathed  freer,  and  trod 
with  elate  step ; then  I knew  that  I had  within  my  hands  the 
power  to  crush  these  villains  ; then,  and  on  the  day  when  he 
took  his  place  upon  the  witness  stand,  I took  my  seat  at  this 
table  as  counsel  for  the  Commonwealth,  and  the  warrants 
were  executed  which  consigned  to  the  prison  every  one  of 
these  criminals,  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  and  of 
those  who  had  run  away  when  Jimmy  Kerrigan  turned  State’s 
evidence.  When,  in  all  the  history  of  criminal  jurisprudence, 
did  ever  such  a change  of  society  come  over  a county  as 
that  which  came  over  this  county  on  the  morning  that  Mc- 
Parlan first  became  a witness,  and  on  the  morning  when 
Jack  Kehoe,  the  County  Delegate,  with  twelve  or  fifteen 
other  men,  handcuffed  to  a chain,  were  marched  from  the 
high  places  they  had  occupied  to  take  their  solitary  cells  as 
felons  within  the  walls  of  your  prison  ? 

“ When  I came  to  this  court-house,  on  that  memorable 
day,  the  court-room  was  crowded  with  the  sympathizing 
friends  of  these  criminals,  but  where  are  they  to-day  ? They 
may  be  here,  but  they,  give  no  sign,  and  we  know  nothing  of 
them,  and  we  care  not  if  they  are  here.  The  whole  county 
sprang  up  like  a giant  unbound,  and  never,  except  in 
dramatic  literature,  has  there  been  revealed  such  an  awaken- 
ing and  such  a change. 

“ There  is  an  old  drama  called  the  ‘ Inconstant,’  in  which 
the  hero  of  the  play  is  beguiled  into  a den  of  infamy,  and 
when  he  is  confronted  by  miscreants  he  for  the  first  time 
realizes  the  danger  in  which  he  is  placed.  He  feels  that' 
his  money  is  to  be  taken  and  that  his  life  will  be  sacrificed. 


532 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


He  has  with  him,  however,  a faithful  page,  and  turning  to- 
ward the  outlaws  he  addresses  them  as  if  he  was  unaware 
of  their  true  character.  He  shakes  them  by  the  hand,  pre- 
sents one  with  his  watch,  and  another  with  his  purse ; he  is 
‘hail  fellow  well  met’  with  them,  and  he  invites  them  to  join 
him  in  a carouse,  and  offers  to  send  his  page  for  wine.  The 
outlaws  hear  it  and  consent,  and  he  says  to  his  page  : 
‘ Bring  me  the  wine — the  blood-red  wine  marked  loo.’  The 
page  departs,  well  knowing  that  the  message  refers  not  to 
wine  but  to  a company  of  soldiers  numbering  one  hundred 
and  wearing  a red  uniform.  After  breathless  suspense  the 
page  returns,  and  in  answer  to  the  frantic  demand,  ‘The 
wine,  boy,  the  wine  ! ’ answers  : ‘ Coming,  sir,’  and  the 
tramp  of  armed  men  is  heard.  Then  the  entrapped  man 
grows  bold.  He  pulls  one  outlaw  by  the  nose,  and  cuffs 
another  on  the  ear,  and  the  soldiers  enter  and  march  them 
off  to  jail.  So  it  was  with  us  when  McParlan  came  upon 
the  stand.  He  was  the  blood-red  wine  marked  loo.  Then 
we  knew  we  were  free  men.  Then  we  cared  no  longer  for 
the  Mollie  Maguires.  Then  we  could  go  to  Patsy  Collins, 
the  Commissioner  of  this  county,  and  say  to  him  : ‘ Build 
well  the  walls  of  the  new  addition  of  the  prison  ; dig  the 
foundations  deep  and  make  them  strong ; put  in  good 
masonry  and  iron  bars,  for,  as  the  Lord  liveth,  the  time  will 
come  when,  side  by  side  with  William  Love,  the  murderer 
of  Squire  Gwyther,  you  will  enter  the  walls  that  you  are  now 
building  for  others.’  Then  we  could  say  to  Jack  Kehoe, 
the  high  constable  of  a great  borough  in  this  county  : ‘ We 
have  no  fear  of  you.’  Then  we  could  say  to  Ned  Mona- 
ghan, chief  of  police,  and  murderer,  and  assassin  : ‘ Behind 
you  the  scaffold  is  prepared  for  your  reception.’  Then  we 
could  say  to  Pat  Conry,  Commissioner  of  this  county : 

‘ The  time  has  ceased  when  a Governor  of  this  State  dares 
to  pardon  a Mollie  Maguire — you  have  had  your  last  par- 
don.’ Then  we  could  say  to  John  Slattery,  who  was  almost 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


533 


elected  judge  of  this  court  : ‘ We  know  that  of  you  that  it 
were  better  you  had  not  been  born  than  that  it  should  be 
known.’  Then  all  of  us  looked  up.  Then  at  last  we  were 
free,  and  I came  to  this  county  and  walked  through  it  as 
safely  as  in  the  most  crowded  thoroughfares  of  Phila- 
delphia. 

“There  is  one  other  dramatic  illustration  which  I remem- 
ber and  to  which  I cannot  help  adverting,  as  it  so  clearly 
paints  the  scene  which  has  been  enacted  so  lately  in  this 
county.  It  occurs  in  Bulwer’s  drama  of  Richelieu.  You 
remember  that  Richelieu,  the  Prime  Minister  of  Louis  XIII., 
was  threatened  by  a secret  conspiracy,  led  by  a great  noble- 
man, dramatized  as  De  Baradas,  and  headed  in  the  army  by 
the  very  brother  of  the  King  himself.  You  will  remember 
that  the  statesman,  realizing  that  his  power  over  the  King 
was  gone,  and  that  the  conspirators  had  acquired  absolute 
control  over  the  mind  of  the  monarch,  set  a page  upon  the 
track  to  discover  the  evidence  of  the  conspiracy,  so  that  he 
could  lay  it  before  the  monarch  in  the  presence  of  the  con- 
spirators themselves.  You  will  also  remember,  if  you  have 
read  the  drama,  the  thrilling  description  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  page,  at  the  point  of  the  poniard,  wrested  the 
parchment  evidence  of  this  conspiracy  from  one  of  the  chief 
conspirators,  at  a time  when  the  monarch  was  holding  court, 
and  when  the  prime  minister,  almost  dead  with  rage  and  cha- 
grin, fear  and  disappointment,  had  almost  ceased  to  hope 
for  success.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  page,  wearied, 
bleeding,  and  breathless,  rushes  in  behind  Richelieu  and 
hands  him  the 'parchment,  which  is  laid  before  the  monarch,, 
who,  for  the  first  time,  learns  that  he  has  been  betrayed,  and 
that  the  army  of  Spain  is  on  the  march  to  Paris.  He  says  : 

^ Good  heavens,  the  Spaniards  ! Where  will  they  be  next 
week  ? ’ And  Richelieu,  rising  up,  exclaimed  : ‘ There,  at 
my  feet ! ’ and  issuing  his  orders  for  the  arrest  of  the  con- 
spirators, turns  to  the  chief,  and  exclaims  : ‘ Ho,  there. 


534 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


Count  De  Baradas.  thou  hast  lost  the  stake/  and  that  stake 
was  his  head. 

“ So  when  we  discovered  the  criminal  nature  of  this  organi- 
zation,  and  when  the  evidence  of  this  conspiracy  was  brought 
forward  to  us  by  McParlan,  we  issued  our  warrants  for  the 
arrest  of  the  conspirators,  and  we  turned  to  these  men,  with 
the  Commissioner  of  the  county  at  their  head,  and  we  said 
to  them  : ‘ Ha  ! you  have  lost  the  stake.’  They  played  a 
deep  game,  and  they  played  for  a great  stake.  They  played 
to  secure  the  property  of  this  county,  by  endangering  the 
lives  of  their  fellow-citizens.  They  had  agents  as  chiefs  of 
police,  and  as  constables  and  commissioners,  and  they  had 
one  of  their  number  almost  on  the  bench  itself.  God  alone 
knows  what  would  have  happened  to  us  if  they  had  gotten 
him  there,  and  then  elected  a jury  commissioner  besides. 
With  Mollie  Maguires  as  judges,  and  Mollie  Maguires  as 
constables,  and  Mollie  Maguires  as  commissioners,  and  Mollie 
Maguires  as  witnesses,  what  would  have  been  the  history  of 
this  good  old  county  ? Think  of  this  for  a moment ! Can 
you  think  where  then  we  would  have  drifted,  and  to  ,what  it 
would  have  led  us  ? Can  you  imagine  the  condition  of  the 
people  of  this  county,  with  murderers  upon  the  bench,  and 
in  the  jury  box,  and  in  control  of  all  the  principal  offices  of 
the  county.  1 lived  in  the  apprehension  of  all  this  for  two 
years  and  a half  alone,  and  God  knows  that  when  the  time 
comes  that  all  I know  may  be  told  to  the  world,  it  will  reveal 
a history  such  as  will  make  every  American  citizen  hang  his 
head  with  shame.  I have  seen  a society  of  murderers  and 
•assassins  having  its  members  in  the  highest  places  of  this 
county.  I have  seen  them  elected  to  fill  the  positions  of  con- 
stables and  police  officers.  I have  seen  a trusted  member  of 
that  band  of  murderers  a Commissioner  of  the  county.  I 
have  seen  this  organization  wield  a political  power  in  the  State 
which  has  controlled  the  elections  of  a great  Commonwealth. 

I have  received  the  information  of  meetings  between  some  of 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


535 


the  highest  officers  of  the  State,  and  the  chief  of  the  murder- 
ers, at  which  large  sums  of  money  were  paid  to  secure  the 
votes  of  this  infernal  association  to  turn  the  tide  of  a State 
election.  God  knows,  if  ever  in  the  world  there  was  a reve- 
lation as  deep  and  as  damning  as  that  now  laid  open  to  the 
people  of  this  Commonwealth  for  the  first  time. 

“ I have  one  other  allusion  to  make  to  a remark  made  by 
my  friend  Mr.  L’Velle  in  his  argument  yesterday.  At  some 
time  or  other  I thought  it  would  be  dragged  into  the  case. 
Mr.  L’Velle,  apting  for  the  prisoner,  and  defending  him  as 
his  counsel,  has  said  to  you  that  it  is  the  old  story  of  capi- 
tal against  labor.  I think  I have  shown  to  you  how  impu- 
dent is  the  claim  that  these  men  set  up  to  be  the  representa- 
tives of  the  Irish  race.  I am  sure  I have  shown  to  you  the 
unblushing  audacity  of  their  claim  that  they  are  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Catholic  religion  ; but  I now  stand  here 
on  behalf  of  the  laboring  people  of  this  county,  the  people 
who  have  suffered  more  throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  this  land  by  the  actions  of  these  men  than  any  other — 
I stand  here  to  protest,  with  all  the  power  that  Cod  has 
given  me,  against  the  monstrous  assumption  that  these  vil- 
lains are  the  representatives  of  the  laboring  people  of  Schuyl- 
kill County.  You  know  very  well  in  what  estimation  in  the 
public  prints  the  laboring  people  of  this  county  have  been  held 
in  consequence  of  the  acts  of  this  society.  Two  or  three  hun- 
dred assassins  have  given  a name  to  the  whole  people  of  this 
county,  and  now,  when  they  are  put  upon  trial  for  murder, 
they  say  it  is  the  old  story  of  capital  against  labor.  On 
behalf  of  every  honest  laboring  man  in  this  county,  on 
behalf  of  every  man  subjected  to  the  primeval  curse  of  the 
Almighty,  that  by  the  sweat  of  his  face  he  shall  earn  his 
daily  bread,  I protest  with  indignation  against  the  assump- 
tion that  these  men  are  the  representatives  of  labor.  It  is 
too  early  in  the  history  of  what  I have  done  in  this  county 
to  say  aught  of  myself  in  connection  with  labor,  but  those 


536 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


who  know  me  well  will  bear  witness  that  on  every  occasion 
in  which  I had  to  take  any  public  part  in  the  conflicts 
between  capital  and  labor,  1 have  taken  pains  to  assert  my 
belief  that  the  laboring  people  of  this  county  were  as 
upright,  as  honest,  as  law-abiding,  and  as  moral  as  those  of  , 
any  other  community  in  the  State.  I took  the  pains  to 
show  that  there  was  a secret  association  banded  together  for 
the  purpose  of  committing  outrages  which  had  given  a 
notorious  character  not  only  to  the  laboring  people  of  the 
county,  but  to  the  whole  county  itself.  I^ook  abroad  upon 
this  great  county,  diversified  by  a thousand  industries  and 
beautified  by  nature  to  an  extent  such  as  few  counties  in  the 
Commonwealth  enjoy.  Why  is  not  this  a hive  of  industry, 
and  the  chosen  seat  of  the  investment  of  capital  ? Why 
do  not  people  from  all  parts  of  the  country  come  to  these 
mountains  to  enjoy  the  salubrity  of  the  climate,  and  to  revel 
in  the  beauties  which  nature  has  spread  before  us?  Why  is 
it  that  a curse  and  a blight  has  rested  for  so  long  upon  this 
county  ? Why  is  it  that  mothers  and  wives  in  far-distant 
cities  have  shuddered  when  their  sons  and  husbands  have 
told  them  that  business  led  them  to  the  mining  regions  of 
Pennsylvania  ? 

“ Because,  fostered  and  protected  here  in  the  mountains 
of  this  county,  was  a band  of  assassins  and  murderers  that 
brought  reproach  upon  the  whole  county  itself.  For  the 
first  time  now  they  are  exposed,  and  we  know  where  were 
their  secret  places,  and  who  were  their  chosen  leaders,  and 
knowing  this,  we  can  stand  up  before  the  whole  country  and 
say,  ‘ Now  all  are  safe  in  this  county  ; come  here  with  your 
money ; come  here  with  your  enterprises ; come  here  with 
your  families,  and  make  this  country  your  residence  ; help 
us  to  build  up  this  people  and  you  will  be  safe,’  and  by  your 
aid,  gentlemen,  we  will  show  to  the  world  that  not  by  vigi- 
lance committees,  and  not  by  secret  associations,  but  by 
open,  public  justice  the  name  of  the  law  has  been  vindi- 


A NOBLE  EFFORT.  537 

cated,  and  the  foul  stain  that  had  rested  upon  us  has  been 
wiped  out  forever. 

“A  few  words  more,  and  I am  done.  I feel  that  1 have 
occupied  more  of  your  time  than  I ought  to  have  taken,  but 
‘ out  of  the  fullness  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,’  and 
if  I have  said  aught  which  some  of  you  might  think  had 
better  have  been  left  unsaid,  you  must  remember  the  strong 
provocation  that  I have  had.  You  must  remember  what  I 
have  been  doing  for  nearly  three  years.  You  must  remem- 
ber what  a seal  I had  to  put  upon  my  lips.  You  must 
remember  that  it  was  only  when  Mr.  McParlan  consented 
to  become  a witness  that  I could  speak  of  that,  the  weight 
of  which  was  enough  to  crush  me  to  the  dust. 

“ I feel,  indeed,  that  if  I failed  in  my  duty,  if  I should 
shrink  from  the  task  which  was  before  me,  that  if  I failed  to 
speak,  the  very  stones  would  cry  out.  Standing  before  you 
now  with  the  bright  beams  of  victory  streaming  upon  our 
banners,  how  well  I can  recall  the  feelings  with  which  I 
entered  upon  the  contest  which  is  now  so  near  the  end. 
Do  not  think  it  egotism  if  I say,  with  the  hero  of  romance, 
that 

“ ‘ When  first  I took  this  venturous  quest, 

I swore  upon  the  rood, 

Neither  to  turn  to  right  nor  left,  • 

^ For  evil  or  for  good. 

My  forward  path  too  well  I ween, 

Lies  yonder  fearful  ranks  between  ; 

For  man  unarmed  ’twere  bootless  hope 
With  tigers  and  with  fiends  to  cope. 

Yet  if  I turn,  what  wait  me  there. 

Save  famine,  dire  and  fell  despair  ? 

Other  conclusion  let  me  try. 

Since,  choose  howe’er  I list,  I die. 

Forward  lies  faith  and  knightly  fame, 

Behind  are  perjury  and  shame  ; 

In  life  or  death,  I keep  my  word.’ 


538 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


“ And  when  all  had  been  discovered,  and  McParlan  con- 
sented to  become  a witness,  I said  that  I would  come  up 
into  this  county,  where  I first  had  learned  to  practice  law, 
that  I would  take  my  place  among  the  ranks  of  the  counsel  * 
for  the  Commonwealth,  and  that  I would  stand  side  by  side 
with  him  in  the  prosecution  of  these  offenses  until  the  last 
one  was  wiped  from  off  the  calendar  of  your  criminal 
courts.  And  let  it  take  weeks,  or  let  it  take  months,  or  let 
it  take  years,  I have  buckled  on  my  harness  and  entered  for 
the  fight,  and,  God  willing,  I shall  bear  it  out  as  bravely  and 
as  well  as  1 can,  until  justice  is  vindicated,  and  the  county 
of  Schuylkill  is  free. 

“My  friend,  Mr.  L’Velle,  makes  a plea  to  you  for  mercy. 
He  pleads  to  you  for  the*  mother  and  the  wife  of  this  pris- 
oner, and  he  asks  you  to  let  mercy  enter  into  your  hearts, 
and  to  restore  this  prisoner  to  his  home.  Are  there  no 
others  who  plead  for  mercy  ? Have  I no  clients  asking 
mercy  at  your  hands  ? Why  is  this  young  woman  made  a 
widow  in  the  early  morning  of  her  life  ? What  crime  had  her 
husband  committed  that  he  was  shot  down  like  a dog  ? Oh, 
she  pleads  to  you  for  mercy,  more  eloquently,  even  if  more 
silently,  than  any  one  on  behalf  of  the  family  of  this  prisoner. 

I plead  to  yOu  on  behalf  of  the  whole  people  of  this  county. 

I plead  for  mercy  on  behalf  of  the  whole  people  of  this  State. 
On  behalf  of  the.  orphans,  the  fatherless,  and  the  widows, 
whose  protectors  have  been  stricken  down,  before  you,  I 
plead  to  you  for  mercy.  I invoke  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and 
ask  them  silently  to  pass  before  you  in  this  court-house.  I 
invoke  the  spirits  of  Dunn,  of  Littlehales,  of  Muir,  of  Smith, 
of  Rae,  and  the  many  victims  of  this  foul  conspiracy,  to  aid 
me  in  pleading  for  mercy.  I ask  you  to  listen  to  the  cries 
of  the  wounded,  to  the  shrieks  of  the  dying,  and  the  mourn- 
ful funereal  wailings  over  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  If  I close 
my  eyes  I hear  voices  against  which  you  cannot  close  your 
ears,  and  which  are  pleading  for  mercy,  oh  ! so  strongly,  that 
my  poor  words  are  but  as  the  empty  air. 


A NOBLE  EFFORT, 


539 


“ ‘ I hear  the  dying  sufferer  cry, 

With  his  crushed  face  turned  to  the  sky  ; 

I see  him  crawl  in  agony 

To  the  foul  pool,  and  bow  his  head  into  its  bloody  slime,  and  die!  * 

‘‘  Oh  ! think  once  more  upon  your  own  county,  almost  one 
vast  sepulchre,  where  rest  the  half-buried  bodies  of  the  vic- 
tims of  this  infernal  order — victims  whose  skeleton  hands, 
bleached  by  the  sun  and  by  the  wind,  are  stretching  up  from 
out  the  thin  covering  of  earth  that  wraps  their  bodies  in  all 
the  eloquence  of  silent  prayer,  beseeching  you  to  have  mercy 
upon  your  fellow-men. 

“ Oh  ! gentlemen,  I beg  to  you  for  mercy,  but  to  this  pris- 
oner let  it  be  such  mercy  as  the  father,  whose  slaughtered 
infant  lies  beside  him,  gives  to  the  wolf  that  has  mangled  the 
corpse ; such  mercy  as  the  seed  of  the  woman  bestows  upon 
the  serpent  whose  head  is  crushed  beneath  its  heel  ; and 
when  you  yield  such  mercy  to  assassins  such  as  these,  you 
yield  a mercy  and  grant  a protection  to  society  at  large, 
which  looks  to  you  now  as  its  only  refuge. 

“ And  now  the  duty  which  I owe  to  this  case  is  almost 
performed,  and  I commit  it  to  your  hands.  For  three  years  I 
have  been  engaged  in  an  investigation,  the  result  of  which  has 
now  become  known  to  the  community.  Two  or  three  days 
after  the  commission  of  this  offense  I believed,  from  the  infor- 
mation which  came  to  me,  that  Thomas  Munley  was  one  of 
the  assassins  of  Sanger.  I had  no  evidence  that  I could  use, 
for  it  was  not  until  McParlan  consented  to  become  a witness 
that  I could  furnish  the  information  that  led  to  the  arrest  of 
this  prisoner.  I believe  I have  done  my  duty  ; for  God’s 
sake,  let  me  beg  of  you  not  to  shrink  from  doing  yours.  Sol- 
emn judges  of  the  law  and  of  the  facts — august  ministers  in 
the  temple  of  justice — robed  for  sacrifice,  I bring  before  you 
this  prisoner  and  lay  him  upon  your  altar,  bound  and  fastened 
by  such  cords  of  testimony  as  all  the  ingenuity  of  counsel 
cannot  unloosen,  and,  trembling  at  the  momentous  issues 


540 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


involved  in  your  answer,  I ask  you,  will  you  let  him  go  ? If 
you  perform  your  duty  without  favor  and  without  affection, 
if,  in  the  pursuit  of  what  appears  to  me  to  be  your  plain  and 
bounden  duty,  you  will  say,  almost  without  leaving  the  box, 
that  this  man  is  guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree,  you  will 
do  that  which  I believe  to  be  just,  and  you  will  do  that  which 
will  protect  society  and  save  the  lives  of  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  your  fellow-men.  But  if  you  should  falter — if,  from 
any  false  sympathy,  you  should  unbind  this  prisoner  and  let 
him  go,  I tremble  for. the  consequences  to  society.  Who 
then  would  be  safe?  h'or  you  to  do  this  would  be  to  hold 
up  this  prisoner’s  hands,  and  the  hands  of  all  his  fellows  and 
associates,  to  place  the  dagger  and  the  pistol  in  their  grasp, 
and  with  the  torch  of  the  incendiary,  to  send  them  again 
throughout  this  land  to  play  their  part  of  murder,  of  arson, 
and  of  crime. 

“ I have  done  all  that  I could  to  expose  the  criminal  char- 
acter of  this  organization.  Laying  aside  all  other  duties,  giving 
up  everything  else  that  I had  to  do,  I have  tried  to  devote 
myself  to  this  cause,  for  I believe  it  to  be  the  highest  duty 
that  I could  be  called  upon  to  perform.  I am  glad,  at  the 
conclusion  of  this  case,  to  return  my  thanks  to  the  able  gen- 
tlemen who  have  been  associated  with  me,  and  especially  to 
the  District  Attorney,  under  whose  administration  these  crimes 
have  come  to  light.  He  was  an  old  student  of  mine  when  I 
was  in  this  county,  and  I was  glad  to  know  that  it  was  he 
who  filled  the  office  when  this  conspiracy  was  first  brought  to 
light.  He  has  done  his  duty  faithfully  and  nobly,  in  the  face 
of  danger,  without  fear,  or  favor,  or  affection.  I know  that 
we  have  a Court  that  will  not  shrink  from  whatever  duty 
may  be  imposed  upon  it,  and  I believe,  from  what  I have 
seen  of  you,  that  you  will  walk  unshrinkingly  in  the  plain 
paths  of  duty  that  are  opened  before  you.  Do  this,  gentle- 
men, and  I am  sure  that,  linked  together  with  that  of  Mc- 
Parlan  and  of  others  who  have  aided  in  this  glorious  crusade^ 


A NOBLE  EFFORT. 


541 


your  names  will  be  enshrined  for  long  coming  years  in  the 
grateful  recollections  of  an  enfranchised  and  redeemed 
people.” 

This  remarkable  address  had  its  effect  upon  the  jury  and 
upon  the  public  feeling  in  the  State,  and  such  a demand  was 
there  for  it  that  a very  large  edition  in  pamphlet  form 
was  quickly  exhausted.  It  was  read  with  avidity  and  greatly 
commended  wherever  circulated.  With  Mr.  Kaercher  and 
Mr.  Gowen  in  this  case  were  associated  Hon.  F.  W.  Hughes, 
Gen.  Chas.  Albright,  and  Guy  E.  Farquhar,  Esq. 

Before  the  conclusion  of  the  Munley  case  a jury  was  im- 
paneled, on  the  sixth  and  seventh  of  July,  to  try  over  again  the 
case  against  Hugh  McGehan,  James  Carroll,  James  Roarty, 
James  Boyle,  and  Thomas  Duffy,  in  the  matter  of  the  Yost 
murder,  the  other  defendants  in  the  same  cause  demanding 
separate  trials.  After  a full  and  careful  hearing  the  jury 
rendered  a verdict  of  “ guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree,” 
against  the  prisoners.  The  speeches  of  Gen.  Albright  and 
Hon.  F.  W.  Hughes — both  very  able  and  eloquent — were 
also  published  and  very  widely  read,  the  interest  in  the  trial 
as  well  as  their  own  intrinsic  value  having  created  a demand 
for  them.  The  counsel  for  the  defense  an'd  prosecution  was 
the  same  as  in  the  Munley  case.  All  the  defendants  named 
above  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged  on  the  sixteenth  of 
August.  Their  cases  were  carried  to  the  Supreme  Court, 
arguments  held,  and  a nol.  pros,  finally  entered,  confirming 
the  sentence  of  the  court  below. 

John  Kehoe,  Michael  O’Brien,  Chris  Donnelly,  John 
Donahue,  alias  “Yellow  Jack,”  James  Roarty,  Dennis  F. 
Canning,  Frank  McHugh,  John  Gibbons,  and  John  Morris 
were  arrested  on  the  sixth  of  May,  1876,  charged  with  con- 
spiracy, at  the  famous  Mahanoy  City  Convention  of  the  first 
of  June,  1875,  to  kill  Wm.  M.  Thomas  and  Jesse  Major. 
They  were  tried  at  Pottsville  before  President  Judge  Pershing 
and  Associates  Green  and  Walker,  commencing  August  9 
and  ending  August  14,  1876.  The  trial  for  conspiracy  attract- 


542 


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ed  the  gentlemen  of  the  bar  from  all  parts  of  the  State,  and 
during  its  continuance  the  court-room  was  daily  crowded  to  I 
the  point  of  suffocation  with  ladies  and  gentlemen,  some  of  I 
them  having  traveled  hundreds  of  miles  to  have  a view  of  the  I 
Mollies,  the  jury,  the  court  and  officials,  and  the  witnesses  for 
the  prosecution.  McParlan’s  testimony  was  intensely  inter- 
esting, and  such  a public  call  for  its  particulars  was  there 
among  the  legal  fraternity  and  the  general  reading  public,  ■ 
that  the  entire  evidence  of  the  trial  was  printed  in  a pamphlet 
of  nearly  three  hundred  pages,  and  a very  large  edition  quick-  . 
ly  exhausted.  The  newspapers  had  special  correspondents  on  . 
the  ground,  and  the  illustrated  journals  of  New  York  sent 
their  artists  to  Pottsville  to  make  drawings  of  the  court  and  f 
surroundings.  The  leading  facts  contained  in  this  extraordi-  ; 
nary  suit  have  been  given  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  nar-  | 
rative.  With  the  exception  of  the  young  man,  Frank  Me-  * 
Hugh,  who  gave  evidence  for  the  Commonwealth,  the  .• 
defendant^  were  all  found  guilty  according  to  the  counts  in  j 
the  several  indictments,  and  sentenced  to  seven  years’  con- 
finement  each  in  the  penitentiary.  McHugh  has  not  been 
sentenced,  having  been  recommended  to  the  mercy  of  the 
court  by  the  jury/ 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 

After  this  came  the  arrest  of  the  murderers — or  those  in- 
terested in  the  murder — of  Comer  James.  Thomas  Hurley, 
having  for  the  time  made  his  escape  — though  it  is  reasonable  ' ; 
to  suppose  that  he  will,  with  other  fugitives  from  justice, 
some  day  be  caught  and  punished — Chris  Donnelly,  John  . 
Donahue,  Michael  O’Brien,  Pat  Dolan,  Sr.,  Pat  Butler,  and  ^ 
Frank  O’Neill  were  arraigned  at  Pottsville  on  the  17th  of 
August,  1876.  James  Roarty,  charged  with  aiding  and  abet- 
ting in  the  killing  of  Comer  James,  was,  with  the  others,  y 


7 he  trial  for  conspiracy  attracted  the  yentle7}ien  of  the  har  frotii  all  pin  ts  <f  t\c  State. 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 


543 


found  guilty.  Chris  Donnelly  was  given  two  years  in  the 
penitentiary,  while  Patrick  Butler,  partly  in  consideration  of 
his  having  given  State’s  evidence,  met  similar  leniency.  John 
Donahue,  having  already  received  sentence  of  death,  was  not 
sentenced.  Mike  O’Brien  was  sent  to  prison  for  two  years. 
Patrick  Dolan,  Sr.,  was  sentenced  to  eighteen  months’  im- 
prisonment. Frank  O’Neill  also  received  two  years. 

September  23,  of  the  same  year,  John  Slattery,  John  Stan- 
ton, Michael  Doolan,  Chas.  Mullhearn,  Ned  Monaghan, 
John  Kehoe,  Chris  Donnelly,  Dennis  F.  Canning,  Michael 
O’Brien,  Frank  O’Neill  and  Pat  Dolan,  Sr.,  were  arraigned 
for  conspiracy  to  murder  Wm.  and  Jesse  Major,  stood  their 
trial,  and  all  but  John  Stanton  were  found  guilty,  and  sen- 
tenced to  imprisonment  as  follows  : O’Neill,  five  years ; 
O’Brien,  five  years ; Canning,  seven  years  ; Donnelly,  five 
years  ; Kehoe,  seven  years,  and  Ned  Monaghan,  seven  years. 

At  the  same  term  of  court,  Thomas  Donahue  was  sen- 
tenced to  two  years’  imprisonment  for  aiding  in  the  escape  of 
John  Gibbons,  one  of  the  men  assaulting  Wm.  M.  Thomas. 

September  22,  1876,  Muff  Lawler  was  brought  to  court, 
as  accessory  after  the  fact  to  the  murder  of  Sanger  and  Uren, 
found  guilty,  but  not  sentenced,  having  enrolled  himself 
among  those  willing  to  aid  the  State  in  convicting  men  more 
guilty.  James  Duffy  was  sent  one  year  for  perjury.  Mrs. 
Bridget  Hyland,  Bernard  M.  Boyle,  and  Kate  Boyle,  having 
been  rather  too  fast  in  swearing  their  friends  clear,  were 
found  guilty  of  perjury  and  given  two  and  three  years  each  at 
the  State  prison. 

The  murder  of  F.  W.  S.  Langdon,  by  the  Mollie  Maguires, 
at  Audenried,  in  Schuylkill  County,  committed  July  14, 
1862,  implicated  John  Kehoe,  County  Delegate,  John  Camp- 
bell, and  Neill  Dougherty.  Campbell  and  Dougherty  were 
arrested,  and  with  Kehoe  brought  to  trial  at  Pottsville,  Jan- 
uary 2,  1877,  found  guilty  of  murder  in  the  second  degree 
and  sentenced,  Campbell  for  nine,  and  Dougherty  five  years 
to  the  State  penitentiary.  Kehoe  was  brought  in  guilty  of 


544  ' 


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murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  sentenced  to  be  executed  the 
1 6th  of  April  in  the  same  year,  but  his  cause  was  taken  to 
the  Supreme  Court,  where  it  will  doubtless  be  decided  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  testimony  and  its  merits. 

In  November,  1876,  Chas.  McAllister  was  convicted  of 
an  assault,  with  intent  to  kill,  upon  James  Riles,  at  Shenan- 
doah. Sentence  thus  far  has  been  deferred. 

All  of  the  above  were  Schuylkill  County  cases. 

In  Carbon  County  arrests  were  made  almost  simulta- 
neously. John  Donahue,  Thomas  P.  Fisher,  Patrick  Mc- 
Kenna, Alex.  Campbell,  Patrick  O’Donnell,  and  John 
Malloy,  were  taken,  charged  with  the  murder  of  Morgan 
Powell,  at  Summit  Hill,  December  2,  1-871.  The  defend- 
ants were  tried,  at  different  terms  of  the  Carbon  County 
Court,  at  Mauch  Chunk,  James  McParlan  frequently  ap- 
pearing— as  in  most  of  the  suits  in  Schuylkill  County — on 
the  witness  stand  and  testifying  to  the  confessions  and  ad- 
missions of  the  Mollies.  They  were  found  guilty  as  follows  : 
Donahue  of  murder  in  the  first  degree  ; Fisher  of  murder  in 
the  first  degree,  and  sentenced  to  death  ; Pat  McKenna  of 
murder  in  the  first  degree,  and  sentenced  to  nine  years’  im- 
prisonment ; Patrick  O’Donnell,  as  accessory,  and  sentenced 
to  five  years’  imprisonment. 

In  Columbia  County,  February  24,  1877,  Pat  Hester,  Pat 
Tully,  and  Peter  McHugh,  were  arraigned  for  the  murder 
of  Alex.  Rae.  The  circumstances  of  the  crime  have  been 
related  in  these  pages.  The  court  was  held  at  Blooms- 
burg,  the  county-seat,  and  attracted  a very  large  attendance. 
McParlan  was  present,  and  his  testimony  was  fully  corrobo- 
rated by  Dan  Kelly,  alias  Manus  Kull,  and  Mike,  alias  Muff 
Lawler,  was  also  a witness.  An  interview  between  McPar- 
lan and  the  last-named  personage  is  thus  described  by  an 
eye-witness  : I 

■ “At  about  a quarter  to  ten  this  morning,  February  12, 
1877,  the  stage  from  Rupert  Station  rattled  up  the  street, 
into  town,  and  disgorged  its  occupants  in  front  of  the  Ex- 


t 


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545 


change  Hotel.  With  Messrs.  Hughes  and  Ryon,  from  Potts- 
ville,  the  redoubtable  Muff  Lawler  made  his  appearance. 
The  meeting  between  Lawler  and  his  old  friend  McParlan 
— Muff  once  knew  him  as  McKenna,  and  initiated  him  into 
Shenandoah  Division  of  the  Mollies,  a few  years  ago — was 
particularly  interesting.  Stretching  out  his  hand,  McParlan 
inquired  of  Lawler,  as  he  indulged  in  a warm  shake  : ‘ Have 
you  the  “ goods”  for  the  last  quarter  ? ’ 

“ ‘ I have  not  ! ’ was  the  blushing  reply. 

‘ Well,  now,  that’s  a pity,’  said  McParlan,  ‘ as  I wanted 
to  get  the  quarreling  toast ! ’ ” 

Several  witnesses  of  the  scene  were  convulsed  with 
laughter. 

I had  at  the  time  the  “ goods  ” for  the  quarter  ending  the 
first  of  February,  1877,  in  my  office,  and  at  once  sent  them 
by  telegraph  to  McParlan,  so  that  he  might  not  have  to 
inquire  about  them  of  Muff  Lawler.  They  were  as  follows  : 

“ Day  Words  : Question — How  does  Erin  stand  ? 

Anszufr — The  Russians  will  be  victorious  I 
“Night  Words  : Question — The  nights  are  getting  short  1 

Answer — We’ll  soon  have  the  Spring  1 
“ Quarreling  words  : Question — Don’t  be  outrageous  1 

Answer — I never  was  such  ! ” 

The  sign  of  recognition  was  made  as  follows  : 

“ Question — With  the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  the  right  hand,  take 
hold  of  the  lapel  of  the  vest  between  the  top  buttons,  or  button-holes. 

Answer — Draw  the  back  of  the  left  hand  across  the  chin.” 

The  leaders  of  this  society  can  make  up  their  minds  that 
henceforth,  as  in  the  past,  I will  not  remain  in  ignorance  of 
their  most  secret  transactions.  It  is  simply  out  of  their 
power  to  prevent  this.  As  long  as  it  is  a society,  and  as 
long  as  its  signs,  mummeries,  and  passwords  are  used  fc^r 
purposes  of  murder  and  assassination,  so  long  will  its  im- 
ported “goods”  remain  my  “goods”  in  the  interests  of 
humanity  and  justice. 

It  was  the  ninth  of  February,  1877,  that  the  trial  at 
Bloomsburg  approached  a crisis.  Sitting  in  the  prisoner’s 


54<5  CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 

I 

dock,  Pat  Hester  smiled  when  he  saw  Dan  Kelly,  alias 
Manus  Kull,  alias  “ Kelly  the  Bum,”  in  the  witness-box. 

But  his  humor  changed  to  dire  dismay  as  he  discovered  , 
that  there  were  still  other  witnesses,  who  fully  corroborated 
what  Kelly  made  oath  to.  Dan  Kelly’s  story  of  the  Rae 
assassination  was  about  as  follows  ; 

, He  met  Pat  Hester,  Peter  McHugh  and  Ned  Skivington 
at  Big  Mine  Run,  in  Barney  Dolan’s  place,  on  the  sixteenth  of 
October,  1868,  the  day  preceding  that  of  the  murder.  Hester 
was  on  his  way,  he  said,  down  the  mountain  with  Skivington, 
but  had  missed  the  train  and  returned  to  Dolan’s,  where  all  had 
something  to  drink.  Afterward  they  walked  to  Ashland,  and 
entered  Donahue’s  saloon.  There  Hester  informed  the  wit- 
ness  that  he  had  lost  something  by  not  going  do\vn  tlie  mountain  ; 
that  day,  adding,  “ Rut  there  is  a good  thing  to  be  had  to-  ' 
morrow,  for  Rae  will  go  to  Bell’s  Tunnel,  and  there  is  money 
in  it  for  us  ! ” It  was  then  agreed  that  Hester,  McHugh, 
Tullyj,^  Skivington,  Brian  Campbell,  Jim  Bradley,  Billy  : 
Muldowney  and  Dan  Kelly  should  go  and  rob  Rae.  Roger  j; 

Lafferty,  alias  Johnstone,  went  across  the  street  and  pro-  ^ 

cured  some  powder  and  bullets,  returned  and  loaded  the  ; 

pistols,  each  one  of  the  persons  named  having  a weapon.  ! 

After  this  they  had  more  liquor  and  stayed  there  all  night,  • j 

All  but  Lafferty  went  out  in  the  morning  to  meet  and  rob  j 

Rae.  But  when  they  got  as  far  as  Germantown,  Muldowney  . | 
left,  saying  that  he  was  too  lame  to  keep  on.  After  they 
got  above  the  toll-gate,  Hester  and  Skivington  left,  and  ; 

Hester  handed  witness,  Kelly,  his  pistol,  sayjng  : “ Kelly,  ,■ 

)^our  pistol  is  no  good  ! Take  mine  ! for  I know  it’s  sure  ! ” 
And  he  remarked  that  he  would  go  to  Shamokin,  to  purchase  '■| 
hair  to-  mix  with  lime  to  make  mortar  for  plastering.  Skiv- 
ington  was  off  also,  wanting  to  go  to  work  in  the  mine  to  | 

throw  aside  suspicion  from  the  rest.  All  the  others  went  as  |i 

far  as  the  water-barrel,  and  remained  there.  They  then  t 

begun  talking  about  Rae  and  his  son,  and  finally  concluded  *| 
that,  if  the  lad  should  chance  to  be  riding  with  his  father  that 


Pat.  Hester  smiled  %oIien  he  saw  Dan.  Kelly.,  alias  Matins  hull,  alias  ''Kelly  the  Bum.,  in  the  svitness  hox. 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 


547 


morning,  as  he  often  did,  they  would  send  the  boy  home 
with  the  horse,  if  they  had  to  shoot  Rae.  The  object  was 
plunder,  not  murder,  unless  the  latter  was  necessary  to  secure 
the  money.  Bradley,  who  was  not  known  in  Centralia,  went 
and  procured  a quart  of  whisky  and  some  crackers.  When 
he  got  back  all  hands  drank  and  ate.  Five  of  the  number 
present  did  not  know  Rae  if  they  saw  him,  so  Dalton,  who 
was  acquainted  with  him,  walked  out  on  the  road  to  signal 
the  others  should  their  victim  arrive.  Soon  a man  came 
along  in  a wagon,  but  as  Dalton  did  not  shake  his  hat  the 
person  was  allowed  to  pass.  Still  another  man  moved  up 
while  the  assassins  waited  in  ambush,  driving  a horse  at- 
tached to  a light  wagon,  and  he  was  permitted  to  go  his  way 
unharmed,  as  Dalton  again  failed  to  give  the  notice.  He 
presently  stepped  out  into  the  road  to  see  who  was  coming 
and  returned  to  his  former  position.  Quickly  afterward  a 
buggy  hove  in  view  and  the  assassins  saw  that  Dalton  was 
standing  in  plain  sight,  shaking  his  hat,  and  they  knew  that 
the  driver  was  Alex.  Rae.  When  the  vehicle  reached  the 
watering-trough,  all  jumped  out  upon  their  victim.  Rae 
alighted  from  the  buggy  when  the  men  ordered  him  to,  and 
quickly  handed  his  watch  and  pocket-book  to  Kelly,  the  wit- 
ness, but  said  nothing.  He  was  confronted  by  a squad  of 
heavily  armed  ruffians.  What  was  there  for  him  to  say  ? 
Kelly  asked  McHugh  what  should  be  done  with  the  man  ? 
McHugh  replied:  “I  won’t  be  hunted  around  the  world  by 
any  living  man,”  when  the  shooting  began.  Rae  ran  to- 
ward the  woods,  and  Tully  went  up  to  him,  put  his  pistol 
to  his  head,  and  shot  him  near  the  ear.  Seeing  that  the 
man  was  sure  to  die,  all  ran  up  the  mountain,  where 
they  divided  the  money,  about  sixty  dollars,  and  the 
witness  remembered  that  Dalton  received  a ten  dollar  bill 
with  a corner  torn  off.  Tully  and  McHugh  and  Kelly 
got  in  at  Graham’s  some  time  that  day,  and  in  the  afternoon 
witness  drove  to  Locust  Gap  with  a beer-seller.  He  got  home 
at  half-past  three.  They  killed  Rae  at  about  nine  o’clock. 


548 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 


He  struck  the  ground  upon  his  face,  and  they  left  him  where 
he  fell,  after  putting  the  horse  and  buggy  out  of  sight  in  the 
wood.  Kelly  acknowledged  that  he  fired  two  shots,  but 
could  not  say  how  many  the  others  fired.  Dalton  did  not 
shoot  at  all.  All  of  the  rest  discharged  their  weapons  at  the 
man.  He  was  sure  he  saw  Tully  fire.  One  shot  hit  Rae  in 
the  cheek.  He  left  Hester’s  pistol  at  Graham’s  and  had 
given  his  own  to  Bradley.  Hester’s  weapon  was  a sort  of 
navy  pistol  and  held  five  cartridges.  It  was  loaded  at  Dona- 
hue’s house.  Dalton  had  a small  pistol  and  McHugh’s  was 
not  as  large  as  Kelly’s.  McHugh  had  a seven-shooter. 
Hester  met  him  the  same  night  in  Graham’s,  at  about  nine 
o’clock,  when  the  rest  were  there.  The  next  he  saw  of 
Hester  was  three  days  later,  when  he  rode  in  his  wagon  with 
him  from  the  Gap  to  Ashland.  Hester  received  none  of  the 
money  taken  from  Rae.  It  was  Hester’s  idea  that  Ray 
would  have  eighteen  or  nineteen  thousand  dollars  with  him, 
but  when  he  heard  how  small  a sum  had  been  realized  he  said 
it  was  not  worth  dividing,  so  took  none  of  it.  About  the 
seventeenth  of  November,  after  Donahue  and  Duffy  had 
been  arrested.  Jack  Smith  told  Hester  of  the  capture,  and  he 
remarked  it  was  about  time  for  him  to  go,  and  he  did  go, 
without  telling  his  confederates  where  he  went.  They  all 
separated,  remained  away  a month  or  two,  and  returned. 
When  they  got  back  Hester  was  in  jail.  He  said  he  had 
been  to  Illinois,  but  it  would  look  better  to  go  back,  as  he 
might  be  taken  there.  A woman*  got  Rae’s  pocket-book. 
The  watch — a gold  one — witness  gave  to  Mike  Graham, 
to  keep  for  him.  He  took  it  from  him  afterward  and  left  it 
with  Con  Garrah  for  ten  dollars.  Garrah  restored  it,  when 
Kelly  gave  it  to  McGuire  for  ten  dollars  and  turned  the  money 
over  to  Garrah.  The  watch  was  subsequently  broken  up  with 
rocks  and  thrown  into  a creek,  for  fear  it  might  lead  to  trouble. 

The  attorneys  for  the  defense  were  unable,  after  many 
efforts,  to  shake  Kelly’s  testimony  in  the  least.  Despite  his 
bad  character  for  truth  and  veracity,  it  was  the  conviction 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD, 


549 


of  everybody  that  he,  for  once  in  his  checkered  career,  was 
bent  upon  telling  the  straightforward  truth.  It  had  its  weight 
with  the  jury. 

Judge  El  well  presided  at  the  session  of  court,  and  Hon. 
F.  W.  Hughes  assisted  the  District  Attorney  in  the  prosecu- 
tion, John  W.  Ryon,  Esq.,  of  Pottsville,  and  others,  appear- 
ing for  the  defendants. 

On  the  24th,  the  jury  returned  a verdict  in  the  three  cases 
of  “guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree.”  This  was  not 
unexpected  by  the  general  public,  but  formed  a complete 
surprise  to  Pat  Hester  and  his  Mollie  friends.  So  confident 
had  Hester  been  of  release,  that,  the  day  before  the  recep- 
tion of  the  decree,  he  sent  word  to  Locust  Gap,  ordering  a 
grand  supper  prepared  at  his  house  in  commemoration  of  his 
discharge  and  triumphant  acquittal.  While  he  did  not  actu- 
ally fire  the  shot  that  killed  Rae,  he  was  virtually  as  guilty 
as  those  who  did,  having  originated  the  job,  and  justice  will, 
without  doubt,  be  meted  out  to  him. 

Hester,  Tully,  and  McHugh  found  that  they  had  but  one 
course  to  adopt,  and  got  a new  trial  \ but  all  has  failed,  the 
Supreme  Court  has  affirmed  the  judgment  against  the  pris- 
oners, and  sentence  of  death  is  their  doom. 

While  these  trials  were  going  on,  the  Mollies  were  not 
idle.  They  moved  every  string  possible  to  pull  in  money  and 
influence  to  defend  their  brethren  in  the  coal  region.  Con- 
tributions were  levied  by  the  National  head  of  the  order,  in 
New  York,  upon  the  subordinate  divisions  of  the  country 
for  a large  amount  of  money — some  place  it  as  high  as 
$30,000 — part  of  which  was  to  be  expended  in  clearing  the 
criminals,  and  the  rest,  I have  reason  to  believe,  in  paying 
assassins  to  go  to  Pottsville  and  take  the  lives  of  McParlan 
and  all  of  my  employes  in  that  section  of  country.  But  the 
refusal  of  one  of  the  Philadelphia  lodges  to  respond  to  this 
levy  brought  the  matter  to  the  notice  of  the  public  press  and 
stopped  at  least  a portion  of  the  funds  from  going  forward 
to  the  National  officers.  New  Orleans  and  some  other  dis- 


550 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 


tant  branches  had  sent  their  share  without  knowing  exactly 
the  purpose  for  which  it  was  to  be  employed,  but  it  is  pre- 
sumable that  not  more  than  one-half  of  the  assessment  was 
ever  realized,  and  that  must  have  been  expended  in  paying 
for  legal  services. 

During  the  session  of  court,  at  which  occurred  the  trial 
of  Kehoe  and  others  for  conspiracy  to  murder  VVm.  M. 
Thomas,  I learned  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  as- 
sassinate Mr.  Gowen,  McParlan,  and  the  entire  court.  It 
seems  at  first  there  was  an  informal  meeting  of  the  Mollies, 
in  Pottsville,  and  it  was  arranged  that  twenty-four  men  should 
be  chosen  to  go  to  the  court-house,  twelve  to  sit  on  the  back 
row  of  seats,  and  twelve  on  the  front  tier,  near  the  prisoners. 
All  were  to  be  armed  with  loaded  -revolvers.  Those  on  the 
front  row  of  seats  were,  at  a given  signal,  to  rise  and  simul- 
taneously fire  upon  the  judges,  the  attorneys  for  the  Common- 
wealth— Mr.  Gowen  esjjecially — and  the  officers,  including 
McParlan  and  Capt.  Linden,  and  the  members  of  the  Coal 
and  Iron  Police.  Those  on  the  back  seat  were  to  kill  off 
those  left  by  the  first  platoon,  when  all  were  to  rush  in,  seize 
the  prisoners  and  with  them  fight  their  way  out  and  make 
their  escape  to  the  hills.  An  influential  member  of  the 
order,  and  a county  official,  hearing  of  this  arrangement, 
after  the  twenty-four  men  had  actually  been  appointed,  made 
his  appearance  at  their  rendezvous  and  informed  the  ring- 
leaders in  the  movement  that  such  an  act  was  evidence  of 
sheer  madness.  “ If  you  do  this,  bdys,”  said  he,  “ there  will 
not  be  an  Irishman  left  in  Schuylkill  County,  and  what  is 
more,  if  you  persist  in  the  plot,  I shall  consider  it  my  bounden 
duty  to  go  at  once  and  have  every  mother’s  son  of  you 
arrested  ! It  can’t  be  done,  and  it  shall  not  be  done  ! ” 

This,  for  the  time,  broke  up  the  conspiracy.  Subsequently 
a young  Mollie  Maguire  made  his  boast,  in  the  presence  of 
several  friends,  that  he  would  go  to  the  court-house,  any  time 
when  he  could  hear  that  Mr.  Gowen  was  alone,  and  shoot 
him  down.  He  was  soon  told  that  the  President  of  the  Read- 


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551 


ing  Railway,  and  the  personal  head  of  the  i^rosecution  of  the 
members  of  the  bloodthirsty  organization,  was  writing,  all  by 
himself,  in  a jury  room.  The  assassin  walked  into  the  a[)art- 
nient,  his  hand  upon  his  revolver,  and  was  about  to  produce 
it  and  fire,  when  an  officer  of  the  Coal  and  Iron  Police, 
having  business  with  the  gentleman  threatened,  unexpectedly 
appeared  on  the  scene.  As  the  would-be  murderer  had  no 
reasonable  excuse  for  remaining,  he  took  his  hand  away 
from  his  pistol,  and,  thwarted  in  his  design,  sneaked  out  of 
the  place.  These  and  other  equally  foolish  acts  of  the 
Mollies  were  duly  reported  to  Mr.  Gowen,  and  he  was 
advised  that  he  must  take  some  precautions  or  his  life  would 
pay  the  forfeit  of  criminal  rashness.  Up  to  that  date  he  had 
not  as  much  as  worn  a pistol,  or  any.  other  weapon,  upon  his 
person,  and  it  is  questionable  if  he  ever  did  subsequently. 
He  is  a brave,  frank  man,  but  depended  too  much,  I think, 
upon  the  justness  of  his  cause,  for  with  the  Mollie  Maguires 
the  common  instincts  of  human  nature  are  outraged  and 
disregarded.  Still  he  was  not  attacked.  While  there  .were 
hundreds  present  thirsting  for  his  blood,  he  turned  upon  the 
Mollies  the  heaviest  deluge  of  invective  that  they  have  ever 
received. 

But  one  New  York  newspaper,  I believe,  has  ever  openly 
taken  the  part  of  the  Mollie  Maguires.  That  was  the  Irish 
World.  The  animus  of  its  article  was  contained  in  an  attack 
upon  Mr.  Gowen  and  James  McParlan,  calling  one  “ the 
head  of  a coal  monopoly,”  and  the  other  his  “hi2-ed  in- 
former.” As  the  editor  possibly  had  to  do  something  to  earn 
his  proportion  of  the  $30,000  received  for  the  defense  of  the 
Mollies,  and  as  his  modicum  of  the  labor  was  so  insignificant 
and  trivial,  I have  not  the  heart  to  devote  space  to  an  an- 
swer. He  is  sufficiently  re])lied  to,  perha[)s,  by  the  verdicts 
of  the  courts  of  justice,  which  point  to  something  more  seri- 
ous than  the  editorial  writer  in  question  had  in  mind  at  the 
time  of  the  preparation  of  his  weak  and  idle  philippic. 

A well  informed  writer  in  the  American  Law  Review^  for 


552 


CLOSING  THE  RECORD. 


January,  1877,  seems  to  have  taken  a more  sensible  impres- 
sion of  the  matter,  and  found  interest  enough  in  the  trials 
of  the  Mollies  to  devote  twenty-eight  pages  of  valuable 
space  to  the  calm  and  dispassionate  discussion  of  the  sub- 
ject from  a legal  standpoint. 

«•••••• 

The  work  of  several  years  is  now  nearly  finished.  About 
seventy  persons  have  been  arrested  in  the  coal  region.  Of 
those  twelve  have  been,  by  a jury  of  their  countrymen,  found 
guilty  of  murder  in  the  first  degree ; four  of  murder  in  the 
second  degree  ; and  four  of  being  accessory  to  murder ; 
sixteen  of  conspiracy  to  murder;  six  of  perjury;  one  of 
assault  with  intent  to  kill;  eight  of  aiding  and  abetting  a 
murder ; one  of  assault  and  battery ; one  for  aiding  in  the 
escape  of  a murderer,  and  several  others  of  lesser  crimes. 
The  sum-total  of  the  time  of  these  sentences  to  imprison- 
ment foots  up  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  years  and  eight 
months.  Eleven  have  received  sentence  of  death. 

On  May  21st,  1877,  Governor  Hartranft  issued  warrants 
for  the  execution  of  eight  of  the  murderers,  viz.  : — Alexander 
Campbell,  convicted  of  complicity  in  the  killing  of  John  P. 
Jones ; James  Carroll,  Hugh  McCehan,  James  Boyle,  and 
James  Roarty,  convicted  of  the  murder  of  Benj.  F.  Yost ; 
Patrick  Hester,  Peter  McHugh,  and  Patrick  Tully,  con- 
victed of  the  murder  of  Alexander  W.  Rea.  Campbell 
will  be  hanged  at  Mauch  Chunck  on  the  21st  of  June, 
in  company  with  Michael  Doyle  and  Edward  Kelly,  con 
cerned  in  the  murder  with  him.  Carroll,  McCehan, 
Boyle,  and  Roarty  will  expiate  their  crime  on  the  same  day 
on  the  gallows  from  which  Thomas  Munley  will  be  suspended 
for  the  murder  of  William  Sanger  and  James  Urens  ; and 
Hester,  McHugh  and  Tully  wdll  be  executed  at  Bloomsburg 
on  the  9th  day  of  August  next,  which  will  be  the  first  execu- 
tions that  have  ever  taken  place  in  Columbia  County. 

June  I,  1877. 

THE  END.  t 


o 


4o(,04-Z 


BOSTON  COLLEGE 


3 9031 


01452380  7 


PS  PINKERTON,  A. 

2590 

.P655  ^ 

M6 


Bapst  Library 

Boston  College 
Chestnut  Hill,  Mass.  02167 


